In Sickness And In Health
by nancy777ca
Summary: Book 3 of my HH series. I've postponed Book 2 for now. Inspired by The Duchess and The Devil
1. Chapter One: Gifts

Chapter One

"How's that?" Emma pressed her fingers against the sides of Matthews neck. When the old man cringed, Emma asked him to swallow. He did so, but with a grimace.

"Does it burn or simply ache?" She asked him.

"Like me throat's on fire Mrs H." Matthews confirmed, his voice hoarse.

"Hmmm..." Emma said absently. She turned to the row of vials on her table and shook her head. Then she dug through her boxes of powders until she found what she wanted. "Ah, here we are." Turning back to her patient, she stopped as the room spun and gripped the edge of the examination table. "Oh dear." Damnation, her head felt as if it were constantly about to drift up off the rest of her body. She'd read that she'd have to tolerate that for another month or so.

"You all right, ma'm?" Matthews asked reaching to steady her.

"Yes, Matthews. Thank you. It's a rather inconvenient thing feeling as if you're drunk as a lord for most of your day."

"Aye, but I imagine having a wee one at the end of it all is a right prize." He reminded her with a grin.

Emma gave a small smile in agreement. "Though at the rate he seems to be growing I imagine 'wee' will only be a figure of speech." She patted her stomach, already noticeably starting to round and thicken. "Now, for you Matthews," She paused to tap the red powder contents of the small tin black box into a glass of water. "This should help ease the pain for a bit."

Matthews stared down into the glass skeptically and then sniffed. His bushy, salt and pepper eyebrows drew together. "What is that in there, Mrs H?" He sniffed the contents.

"Matthews, my dear man. Haven't you learned by now not to ask me that question?" Emma smiled. "Drink up like a good lad now." She'd never admit it, but it was always highly entertaining watching her patients reactions to any treatments she chose to administer to them.

Matthews didn't disappoint. He sipped from the glass gingerly and then his eyes widened.

"Bleedin' Christ!" He said sputtering. Emma took the glass from him so he wouldn't spill it while he coughed and shuddered. " 'at's pepper in there!" The old man glared at her as if she'd pulled off the lowliest betrayal.

"Indeed, now the rest, if you please." Emma insisted pushing the glass towards him.

"But Mrs H..." He groaned with dismay.

"It'll ease your throat. I promise. Then once more after dinner and I'll have another look before you turn in. It's more effective than salt water and quicker as well. Let's hope the soreness is gone tomorrow or we might be looking at tonsillitis I'm afraid."

Matthews swallowed nervously and took another sip. Under her watchful gaze, he finished the glass. When he got up off the table she watched him favouring his right leg.

"Storm coming?" Emma asked amused. Though she was not one to be given to superstition, Matthews was convinced that knee joint on his right leg began to ache whenever there was a storm brewing. True, it had actually had been rather overcast today but really, weather forecasting bones?

"Mark my words, Mrs H. This time tomorrow, we'll have us a blower." He nodded nervously. On his way out, Matthews stopped in the doorway and then put his fingers to his throat. Turning to Emma, he cleared his throat.

"Better?" Emma asked smugly.

Matthews glowered at the empty glass on her table but shrugged and gave a small nod.

Emma sat on her bed to rest her sore back for a moment, then decided against it when she found her eyes beginning to drop closed. Shaking her head she forced herself back on her feet then felt the all to familiar urge to use the privy. Oh bother! If it wasn't one thing it was another. She was either dead on her feet or in the ward room half the time.

"Clear the privy everyone!" Styles joked when she scurried past him in the corridor. Emma decided the needs of her bladder superseded any need to retort and ignored him.

The novelty of pregnancy was quickly beginning to wear off. Between losing her breakfast every morning and rushing to the privy every five minutes, she was becoming disillusioned with what was supposed to be the 'gift' of maternity.

Then there was the matter of her body becoming a foreigner to her. It was twisting and expanding in rather off-putting ways to make room for this tiny entity inside of her. Later, as Emma stood in the sick berth, with a rare moment alone. She placed a hand over her breast, wincing at the tenderness there. She'd admit that vanity took precedence there as she liked that change the best. As she noticed Horatio did too. Her breasts were fuller. Though he rarely displayed his desire for her, she could see a twinge of appreciation when he gazed there. Yet, when she caught him at it, he'd blush and look away. As if he had no right to look upon his pregnant wife in such a manner. Relations had come to a near stand still as well and Emma began to wonder if Horatio's excuses about not wanting to hurt the baby were just an excuse because she was becoming fat.

Her mother-Emma stopped herself. No. Rowena was not her mother. It was sometimes hard to reconcile her relief that such a hateful woman had not borne her with the anger that the one that did, had no desire to raise her. Horatio had tried to make it sound so noble. Her real mother, a woman named Katherine who had probably died while fighting for her country, had left Emma to be raised in safety and comfort and could not have raised Emma herself.

Safety and comfort. Emma snorted at that. She'd have given it all up for an ounce of maternal love. But no, instead she was taunted by the whisperings of a hateful woman who assured her that all men were loving and attentive in the beginning, but once settled into marriage, a wife lost her lustre and her figure and he would surely look elsewhere.

Was that what was happening now? Emma's eyes burned with tears. Did Horatio not desire her anymore?

"Oh for goodness sake." Emma sniffled turning to her apothecary table. Everything made her cry these days. Or nauseous. Emma shuddered, as her stomach lurched. The nausea had abated somewhat but the smell of food still made her somewhat queasy. She imagined seeing one's wife with her head constantly over the chamber pot would kill anyone's desire.

Still, she missed it though. Horatio still held her at night and was still wonderfully sweet and kind but she missed his hands on her in that fevered passion they had shared before she'd become pregnant.

Pulling a book out, she settled onto the mattress. Emma wondered if it made her abnormal, to enjoy her husband's attentions in bed. She enjoyed the feel of his hands stroking her, the feel of him full and hard inside of her. His breath, hot and sweet against her face as he slid back and forth above her.

Emma shivered in memory and shook her head, trying her best to put such memories from her mind. She had to hold onto the belief that those things would all return once the baby was born.

She placed a hand on her stomach and unconsciously her mouth curved in a soft smile. There was an actual person inside of her, Emma marvelled. A person who would someday have it's own ideas and emotions. She couldn't wait to meet this little one.

"Hello in there. And are we well this evening?" She flipped open the book she'd brought with her. An anthology of Shakespeare's works. She felt slightly guilty keeping the volume when she'd turned over all of Archie's possessions to his family but she wanted to keep a piece of the dear man with her. And lately, she was glad she had. When she was able to grab a quiet moment, like now, she liked to read to the child inside of her, certain that the baby could hear her. When she read the words on the page, she imagined the baby there, curled up peacefully in her womb, tiny ears pressed and soothed by lyrical words.

What did it matter if Emma didn't understand the words half the time? They flowed like music.

__

"Since thou art dead, lo! Here I prophesy sorrow on love herafter shall attend.

It shall be waited on with jealousy. Find sweet beginning but unsavory end.

Ne'er settled equally but high or low.

That all love's pleasure shall not match his woe."

Emma cocked an eyebrow and stared down at her stomach. "Not the cheeriest of verses is it? Hmm, perhaps when you grow up, little one, you could tell mummy what it means?" She asked with a laugh. Emma regretted that she'd never been one for literature and wanted her child to be able to enjoy it right from the beginning.

"Who knows? Perhaps you'll grow to write as beautifully as our lad, Will, here, hmm?" She giggled at that fanciful thought and continued to read.


	2. Chapter Two: Loved

Chapter Two

"Good evening, Captain." Emma called out seeing Captain Pellew on the deck above her. He touched his hat with a nod as she made her way up the stairs towards him. The wind was blowing her shawl up around her face and she had to press her arms firmly against her breasts to keep it down which caused her annoyingly sharp pangs of discomfort. She winced and eased the pressure slightly.

"And how are you, this evening, Mrs Hornblower?" Captain Pellew asked rubbing the end of his nose, a habit he couldn't seem to break whenever he was in her presence.

"I'm beginning to think that the glow of pregnancy is nothing more than the exertion of bringing up one's breakfast every morning." Emma said.

"How is the little one?" He asked, his voice softening.

"Well, I read that it's much too early but I could swear this one is moving already."

"An overachiever like his father, no doubt." Captain Pellew said with a snort.

"Indeed. Matthews' knees are forecasting rain again." Emma informed him with a grin. Captain didn't return the amusement.

"I daresay, Matthews may be correct in the matter this time." He stared out onto the water, frowning.

Emma felt a prick of nervousness. "There's a storm coming?"

"It looks that way. You should have gotten off in London when you had the chance, Mrs Hornblower."

"I see you and my husband have been amusing yourselves by discussing what's best for me, as usual. If you'll give me leave to speak freely I shall tell you what I told him. Women have been having babies since the dawn of time, Captain. I hardly think I should let a bit of rain scare me. I'm perfectly capable of performing my duties until the final few months." She shivered in the damp February air.

"Indeed Oldroyd informed me that you fell asleep during breakfast this morning." Captain Pellew said.

Emma narrowed her eyes. _Oldroyd, you little bratty twit and after I allowed you to feign illness just last week! _"We'll be stopping in Portugal for a short time, won't we? Once I get myself a bill of health from some one other than myself, perhaps we can cease all this discussion over whether I am capable of carrying around another human being and still doing my job."

Captain Pellew grunted non-commitally in response to that. "Will you and Lieutenant Hornblower be joining me for dinner this evening?" He asked following her towards the bow. "Part of your husband's concern has to do with the fact that we may come under enemy fire before we hit port. We must make arrangements for such an eventuality."

"Against the Portuguese?" Emma asked surprised.

"Allies of Spain, Mrs Hornblower. A good number of the Spanish fleet is defending their border."

"And that's why we're headed there." Emma lifted her chin in sudden understanding. A tight nervous knot squeezed in her stomach and her hand went over her abdomen protectively.

"Correct, Mrs Hornblower."

"I daresay the navy is the only occupation I know of where one heads toward danger as opposed to away from it." Emma scowled shaking her head.

"Those Spanish ships will fetch us, including your husband a pretty penny." Captain Pellew reminded her. Emma narrowed her eyes at him, letting him know quite clearly what she thought of _that_ reasoning. "If I may suggest you get yourself below before Lieutenant Hornblower discovers his wife chilled to the bone?" He said looking over her shoulder.

"If Lieutenant Hornblower notices me anywhere besides sick bay or the mess, I'll kiss the first Spanish captain we encounter." Emma promised rolling her eyes. Captain Pellew's eyes widened in amusement.

"Then let us hope that he's at least a comely Captain, dear wife." An all too familiar voice said behind her. Emma startled and whirled to face the smiling face of her husband.

"Horatio!" Emma exclaimed, her heart skipping at the sight of his handsome face.

"I regret I'm only an English lieutenant." He saluted her, then did the same to Captain Pellew. "What are you doing up here? You'll catch your death in this cold. Get below."

"I came for a bit of air. The child may be no more than the size of a pea but he could use some freshly oxygenated blood now and then." Emma said dryly. The joke went over her dear husband's head and he stared at her blankly. "I'll be heading back into the bowels of purgatory now. Good day, gentlemen. Captain, I look forward to dinner."

As soon as she began to walk away, Horatio and the captain's heads came together and they began to discuss the strategy for battling the Spanish ships they were heading towards. They enjoyed it, Emma thought, raising her eyes heavenward. It was a part of her husband that Emma did not comprehend. He seemed to relish doing his duty, placing himself in harm's way time after time in the name of some English king whose knowledge of Horatio's existence was highly questionable. Of course, the country needed men like her husband to defend it, Emma conceded that, but did they have to have her husband specifically? Emma again placed a hand over her belly, praying that Horatio's loyalty to his king wouldn't cost this child his father. She shuddered and forced away the horrific idea. She had hoped that because of the child, Horatio might have eased himself away from facing the dangers of the navy.

_Emma Hornblower, you hypocrite! _She reminded herself with a wry grin. Her husband had been relentlessly trying to get her to do the exact same thing and she kept refusing to leave the Indefatigable, insisting she could easily fulfill her duty. What was that saying her father used to quote to her when he was cross with her? _Do as I say, not as I do. _Well, that certainly applied here, Emma thought heading to the kitchen for her daily supply of boiled water.

"Horatio, are you asleep?" Emma asked in the darkness.

"Yes." He replied.

She poked him in the ribs, making him laugh. "Don't be silly. How can you answer me if you're asleep?"

"What is it, love?"

"I was thinking. What if it's not a he?"

"The child?" Horatio asked.

"No, Horatio, Bracegirdle. Yes, the child." Emma replied running her leg up along his. "We keep calling it a he. Suppose it turns out to be a girl? I'd be quite cross if my parents kept referring to me as a he and I came out a girl."

"I'd be quite cross with your parents if you'd come out a 'he'." Horatio joked. Some people lost their sense of humour under the adjustments of married life. Horatio seemed to have found his.

"You want a boy." Emma stated hearing the slow beat of his heart against her ear. She spoke with her eyes closed. The only sound in the cabin was their mixed soft breathing and the faint sounds of activity above decks. Ironic that she should become pregnant shortly after Horatio's new rank afforded him his own cabin and now he was reluctant to engage in intimacies.

"I never meant to make you think I had a preference. I'll love the child regardless of course." Horatio's arm tightened around her waist and Emma was assured that even if they weren't engaging in the more physical aspects of married life, Horatio still let her know in small ways that he loved her.

"Yes, but you haven't come up with one female name for it. I'd say that's quite telling." Emma reminded him.

Horatio sighed and then snorted, "Thank God there is no female derivation of Horatio."

Emma tried to stifle her burst of laughter in his chest. "Well, yes." She agreed.

"I rather like the name Anne. My grandmother was named Anne." Horatio reminded her

"Anne. A nice strong name. No insipid miss, for sure." Emma nodded with approval.

"With you for a mother? God help the male population." Horatio remarked and then laughed when Emma poked him again.

"Though I was thinking also, if it does turn out to be a male child. What do you think of naming him after our dear Archie?" Emma suggested softly.

Horatio was silent for a few moments and when he spoke again his voice was thick with emotion."I think that's a very fine idea."

A.N:

Sweet A.K: Yep, prepare for the return of the Crumpet very soon. (smiles) Matthews has always had a soft spot for Emma from the get go. (licks chocolate finger) His not mine. (grins) Thankie for your lovely feedback!

Kasora: Indeed, this story will be a few books long so hope you continue to enjoy! (blushes) Thankie for your lovely words. Hope you like this chapter.

Sarita04: Thankie for your lovely feedback. It's a special joy to write when I have such lovely readers like you to write for. Hope you like this chapter too!.


	3. Chapter Three: Stormy Waters

Chapter Three

" 'E goes out for a gypsy's kiss and then ye spit in it." Styles informed her.

"That's revolting. " Emma scowled, stitching up the gash on his thick shoulder. "I'm not going to spit and certainly not in my husband's urine."

"Or you could crack open an egg and spit in it." Oldroyd offered, somewhat more helpfully.

"Are there any methods that don't involve the use of spit or bodily fluids of any kind?" Emma asked turning to tighten the gauze on Oldryod's wrist.

She looked up at the sudden boom of thunder and didn't miss the 'I told you so' look on Matthews face.

"Ye could 'old your wedding band over yer 'and and which ever way it swings'll settle the matter." He offered.

Emma snipped the end of the thread and sent Styles on his way. "And if I don't have a wedding band?"

"Oh well in that case, me ma'm would toss apple peels over 'er shoulder." Styles explained.

"And how would that tell her the gender of her child?" Emma asked amused by the superstitious nonsense.

"It wouldn't. She'd use it to find 'erself a husband, right quick." Styles explained laughing and darting towards the door of the sick berth. Matthews snorted and balled up a strip of linen and threw it at his head before Styles managed his escape.

Emma pressed her lips together and closed her eyes, fighting a smile.

"I reckon the wee bauble would work, Mrs H." Matthews offered, pointing to the cufflink at her neck.

"You think so?" Emma asked, her hand going to small cufflink suspended in yellow ribbon just above the valley of her breast. A nervous shiver ran through her at the thought of taking it off. Emma's eyebrows drew together in confusion. She'd removed the thing many times and without a moment's thought. Yet now, the thought of taking it off made her uneasy. She attributed her nervousness to the mysteries of pregnant hormones and shook herself out of the ridiculous feeling and undid the ribbon. She handed it to Matthews. "Now what?" She asked lifting her chin. Matthews stepped back a bit from the examination table. The ship gave a rolling lift beneath them and Emma's eyes widened in slight panic at the sensation. Matthews gripped the edge of the table and reached out an arm to steady her.

"Seems to be gettting worse." Emma said biting her lip.

"No worries, Mrs H. In like a lion, out like a lamb." Matthews assured her.

"Right, we've had worse gales than this. What's a little dousing?" Oldroyd piped in with a nod.

"Now, if you'll 'old out yer 'and, Mrs H. Palm up." Matthews instructed.

Emma extended her hand with the palm facing upwards and Matthews raised the ribbon, secure in his hands and dangled the cufflink above Emma's raised hand. It began to sway in every direction, Emma guessed this more from the gradually more pronounced pitch and roll of the ship than any supernatural guidance. Then it seemed to still. No movement at all, despite the swell and dip beneath their feet. Again, Emma felt a strange icy shiver.

"Maybe 'e'll come out as both. I've 'eard of them kinds of babies." Oldroyd informed her.

So had Emma, but the only cases where she read of a baby containing both male and female genitailia involved deformed gene pools, usually caused by incestuous relations.

"Well lucky for me that Horatio and I didn't have the same last name before we were wed then, isn't it?" Emma joked rolling her eyes.

"Oh, here it goes." Matthews announced and sure enough, the cufflink began to sway again, this time in a more pronounced back and forth movement. They watched it intently, Emma feeling slightly ridiculous for being so enraptured. Matthews let out a grunt of satisfaction and then dropped the cufflink and ribbon onto Emma's palm. "Ha. I win 'alf yer next month's wages, Oldroyd. I was right. 'at's a boy you've got in there, Mrs H." Matthews announced, certain.

Emma felt her heart constrict with some exhilarating full emotion. A boy. A son. Archie. Her face split into a wide grin but she quickly masked it. Lowering her head, she tied the ribbon securely around her neck and then forced herself to shrug."We'll see for sure when the time comes, won't we?"

"Aye, you're right about that, Doc. And then is when I'l make you pay me your wages, you old codger." Oldroyd insisted shoving Matthews in the shoulder.

The storm got worse. The boards and walls of the Indefatigable shook with the force of it and Emma's nervousness increased with every hour that Horatio spent above decks in the thick of it. She forced herself to pay attention to administering care to the men that gradually started to file in, damp and injured. As she rushed about, the numbers rising seemingly by the minute, the hem of her dress swished, soaked and dirty around her ankles and her heart was in her throat. She guiltily hoped Horatio would injure himself just so she could set eyes on him. _Please, please come down. Just let me look at you. _Emma thought. She moved mechanically, the familiar numbness settling over her so she could do her job. Matthews had been hit with a fallen beam and assured her that Horatio was fine when he'd seen him. Rushing about helping the captain and Lieutenant Bracegirdle amid the chaos and fury of the storm. They were losing men by the dozen, but Horatio was all right.

She hoped for a lull in the activity so she go above and find Horatio herself but there was no hope of that just yet. Dealing with dozens of nearly drowned men, Emma was soon damp from head to toe. She pulled at the collar of her dress to ease the warm stickiness of sea water from her skin. She patted her neck with a dry towel, trying to ease the discomfort. She walked to the chest by the door, climbing over Hether and a midshipman named Dramen and pulled out some more towels.

"' overboard...no hope for it, poor lad." Emma overheard. She didn't recognize the voices but pressed closer to listen.

"Don't tell the, Doc. Mrs Hornblower will 'ave a right fit when she finds out what's going on with her husband." The voices faded and Emma gripped the edges of the chest, her knees threaten to buckle.

Overboard? Horatio? God, no, Please! Emma prayed trembling. There had to be a mistake. She heard wrong. Of course, she had. Emma stepped back and dug her fingernails into the palm of her hand.

"You all right, Mrs H?' Matthews called out his voice sounded rather muffled to her. Distant. The room narrowed around her to just the door way. The door, between knowing for sure or living in anxious ignorance.

"Matthews." Her tongue felt thick and dry as sandpaper in her mouth. "I have...have to use...I'll be right back." Emma told him and then she was running. Running down the corridor and outside. The rain hit her full force pushing her backwards, her back slamming painfully into the railing around the stairs. Emma grabbed onto one of the masts and tried to make ourt her husband in the pitch black chaos.

"What the bloody hell are you doing up here?" Bracegirdle shouted at her gripping her arms.

"Horatio's fallen overboard!" Emma screamed.

"Get below. Now!" He ordered.

"No! I need to find him!" Emma trying to twist out of his grasp.

"Your husband is manning one of the boats. He's fine now get yourself below, dammit!" the portly Lieutenant yelled pushing her back towards the door. His attention was diverted by a few of the men, struggling with one of the sails and he let her go. Emma waited a second and then, untrusting that she could stay upright on the pitching floor crawled on her hands and knees towards the railing and then lifted herself up slightly and peered over the edge.

She sagged with relief when she made out her husband's angular features and wide dark eyes in a small boat, pulling fallen men inside it to safety. She nearly wept with thanks and gave a silent prayer that God would keep him safe until this storm passed. Ironic that she, who had never been much for religion had prayed more in the two years she'd been married than in her whole life. She began to crawl back towards the stairs when she heard a voice close by her, screaming for help. Rubbing the water from her eyes, Emma followed the direction of the voice. Oldroyd. "Good God!" Emma exclaimed. The young man was hanging on for his life to the railing, dangling precariously over the side. She crawled towards him and then turned, calling for someone to help her. She spotted the Captain, pulling people up over the side and back on to the deck and screamed for him.

"Captain! I need your help! Captain Pellew!" She screamed but he couldn't hear her."Hang on, Oldroyd. Hang on." Emma said closing her hands over his She looked around for rope. Finding a thick bundler, she tied part of it it under her breasts, hoping the knot held and tied some of it to one of the masts. A good foot of rope remained in front of her and she urged Oldroyd to grab on to it and she'd try and haul him over. He was too desperate to question her and grabbed on to the rope. Emma was pulled back onto her knees with Oldoyd's weight and felt the rope crushing her ribs painfully. "Use your feet to climb over! Come on!"Emma shrieked. His blue eyes widened in horror and behind her, Emma saw the flash from the lightning when it hit the mast she had tied herself to. It snapped, nearly falling on her but Emma quickly stepped out of it's path. Though now, without the mast to hold her and Oldroyd's weight, Emma shot forward, her body slammed into the ledge and it gave way, sending both she and Oldroyd crashing down into the frigid waters of the Atlantic sea.

A.N:

Sweet A.K: (huggies you) You never disappoint with your entertaining lovely feedback. Captain Pellew is secretly tickled at the idea of the baby, though he's just as adamant as Horry that Emma doesn't belong on the ship now that she's expecting. Necessity wills out though for the moment. They need a doc. (falls over laughing at the image of shaking Crumpet booty) Hope you won't want to kill me too bad after this chapter. I'll be running off with the chocolate Horry just in case though!

ViperVixen33: Love that name. (giggles) I'm glad you enjoy both the fandoms I write for! And heck, better late than never with the feedback so I'm not gonna complain. Archie will be back in this book! Promise. Let me know if you like this one too!

master mahgol: Thankie! I hope the wait was worth it! Hope you enjoy this chapter too!

Kasora: So great to hear from you again! (huggies) Thankie for your always lovely feedback. Hope you like this one too!

Kidman5: I feel like this is a wonderful class reunion. (laughs) Thankie for your lovely feedback. Hope you like this one too!


	4. Chapter Four: Lost Treasure

Chapter Four

Captain Pellew handed Horatio the soaked ribbon. The cufflink dangled mockingly in the centre.

"This was... all." the captain explained hoarsely.

Oldroyd sat, shivering in the corner blinking back tears of self-disgust. Matthews stood with him, head bowed.

"Th...Thank you." Horatio replied, taking the fabric with shaking fingers. He moved towards the chair but missed it and landed on the floor where he stayed and stared at the ribbon in his hand. Captain Pellew made to help him to his feet but Horatio pulled out of his grasp. "Oldroyd..." The younger man looked at the lieutenant uneasily. But Horatio seemed to change his mind and let the sentence go unfinished.

"She saved me life, Sir. I'm right sorry I couldn't do the same." Oldroyd shook his head then started to cry.

Horatio nodded and pushed himself to his feet. Then he turned to his Captain and with a shaking hand offered him a salute.

"Yes, yes. Of course. Dismissed" Captain Pellew returned the salute, his own throat clogged with emotion.

_What now? _Horatio thought, standing on the other side of the door. _Oh dear, what should I do now? Walk, Horatio. Yes, that's right. _He turned and began to walk down the corridor. He couldn't see very well in the darkness, everything looked rather blurry. Horatio slammed into the wall, then felt moisture running down his face. _Was that blood? _He couldn't tell. _No, not blood, you stupid man. Tears. _ Horatio stiffened and wiped at his cheeks furiously. An officer in his majesty's navy did NOT cry. _What will Emma say when she sees you blubbering like a babe? Oh. Oh dear._

Horatio stood on the other side of his cabin. He couldn't go inside. Could not. Would not. He wished the Spanish were still attacking but no, the battle was over and his wife was dead. _Sorry about that, 'ol boy. _Horatio stepped away from the door and threw up in the hallway.

Four hours they looked. Four hours after the Spanish ambush during the storm and Oldroyd was pulled into the jollyboat screaming that Emma had fallen into the sea. They sought and did not find.

_Of course, stupid man. Did you really think you could keep her? Keep such a treasure all to yourself? _Horatio sank against the wall down onto the floor. The stench of vomit doing nothing to dissipate the scent of Emma from his mind. _Treasures are not meant for you, man. God likes to amuse himself with you, 'ol boy. Taunting you with special things just to take them away. His mother. His best friend. His wife. And son. Oh yes, musn't forget the bitterest irony of that. God hadn't even given him his son before God took him away._

"Sir?" A familiar voice made Horatio look up.

"Yes, Styles?" Horatio asked the dark hulking figure. A sniffle and then Styles crouched down and Horatio could make out his face.

" 'ere you go, Sir." Styles pressed something into Horatio's hands. Glass. A bottle. " 'elp you sleep. Captain's compliments."

"Thank you, Styles. I could use your assistance." Horatio took Styles by the arm and used it to lift himself to his feet.

"Captain says you're off duty for a few days. Sleep well, Sir." Styles's voice was choked and Horatio wondered if he were to press his hand to Styles's face, if he'd feel moisture as well. Not tears, of course.

"Thank you, Styles." Horatio repeated. The dark figure remained at his side for a few more seconds. "What is it, Styles?" Horatio asked.

"I... well, only 'at she was a good woman, Sir. 'at's all."

Horatio's legs nearly buckled beneath him as agony sharpened in his heart. "Aye. And now we are all damned because of it."

He forced himself into his cabin and the pain in his heart nearly crippled him. Her robe hung on the edge of the bed. The entire room smelled of her. Lemon and alcohol. No matter how thoroughly, she never could get rid of the slightly sterile smell that absorbed into her skin. Making her even more pure. He forced open the bottle and took a long gulp of what he thought was brandy. Scotch. It burned; choking him and making him cough, distracting him from his pain in the struggle for breath. He didn't want to breathe. He took another gulp and again, choked._ Ah that's better. Again, struggle to breathe. Again, don't think. Again, air, need air. Not Emma. Air. Easier to breathe now, drink more. Faster._

When he finally fell, for the first time in his life, into an alcohol-induced stupor, it was to be tormented by her even further. Emma was there, in Horatio's dreams. Her skin sliding over his, hot and sweet, like her mouth.

_"Kiss me, my darling man, my husband." Horatio lifted his mouth to hers. Sliding upwards into her. He thought she liked it this way best cause she always came apart so much quicker but Emma assured him it was not so. She liked him over her best. "It's over too soon then. I like it when I can look up at you. So I can hold you close. Feel your back beneath my fingers and your heart pressed to mine. Feel it race and know that it is I who make it so." Her hair would fall forward covering his face, blanketing him, protecting him from the harsh reality of his day. When he was able, he'd make her come apart above him, stroking her with his fingers as he filled her and when she sagged on top of him, sweet breasts crushed to him, he'd turn her over and take her again. Slow, deep, amazed at the love filling every cell in his body at the sound of her sweet cries. Her eyes black with desire as she wrapped her legs around him and arched and sighed. The shyness had left them soon after their first time. Then it was discovery. Then it was comfort and then it was passion and love. Hot, wide, all encompassing and relentless._

He came awake from the force of his release and the officer who never cried, wept bitter tears filled with rage into his pillow.

Horatio was in front of Captain Pellew the next day, insisting on going on with his duty. His wife and child locked in a corner of his heart he refused to ever look at again. The lonely boy he had been had schooled himself never to need anyone. He could re-learn that lesson.

Captain Pellew wanted to refuse him, but they'd lost over eighty men in the Spanish ambush. He needed more men, not less. And a new doctor. The cook could only substitute for so long before his dual duties exhausted him. He hated himself for it, but he did not have the luxury of allowing Horatio his grief. Not that Horatio was allowing himself that luxury. Edward watched Horatio through the following days. The young man threw himself into his duty, driving himself to exhaustion night after night. He was every inch the polished, efficient officer he had always been, dedicated. But there was now nothing behind the darkness of Horatio's eyes.

He offered to hold a small service for Emma but Horatio refused. The sea had already taken her. There was no body to toss into the water. No reason for a service.

Still, the men raised a glass to the young woman and her unborn child every night and every night Lieutenant Hornblower dreamed of his wife and unborn child and wept.

A.N:

Kasora: Thankie for your lovely feedback. Hope you enjoy this one too! Or maybe enjoy is the wrong word? (pets poor Horatio)

Sarita04: Thankie for reading and commenting. I imagine they thought even moving would make a woman lose the baby!(laughs) Why do you think Horatio was so wary of engaging in nookie?

ViperVixen33: Hope you like this chapter too, and just in case you thought it was too long a wait, I give you two chapters in one day. (smiles)

ancatgaelige: Hope you like this chapter and don't want to kill me too badly.

Camreyn;!(squee) I've missed you! Glad you enjoyed the last few chapters and followed me into this next part. Horatio's just being honourable, he wants his wife but thinks she's some kind of sacred fragile flower now.(shakes head) Pellew, like Horatio, wants her off the boat and laid up as a 'proper' lady would be in her delicate condition. (smacks Pellew)

The nose will be between Pellew and Emma for years to come. (laughs) Rest assured, Archie shall return very soon. Hope you enjoy this part too!

eridani: Thank you so much for your comments at the end of For Better or Worse. You totally made my day with your praise. So glad I made you stay up so late. (laughs) Hope you enjoy this chapter too! 


	5. Chapter Five: Bad Company

Chapter Five

_Can't breathe! Kick! Keep kicking! Up! Up! Oh please, God! Swallowing water instead of air. Choke. Can't breathe. Horatio! I don't want to die here. It's so cold. So heavy and so cold. I'm not strong enough, I'm sorry. Then rage. I will not die here! I will not die here! You hear me, God? I defy you! My baby will not die here in this ocean! Lungs burning, head feels like it's gonna explode. Hold on...Hold on. Kick! Up! Up! Breaking the surface. Ice cold air, gulped gratefully and then down again. No, you don't. Then being pulled, pulled away, the ocean carrying further and further backwards. Down and back, down and back. Nooooooooooo! And then lethargy. So heavy. Not so bad, letting go. So tired. No! Kick! Breaking the surface again, another gulpful of air and then down again. God is stronger than you. God's will be done. I curse you, God! I curse you. And then sleep._

The man leaned in close and pressed his hand to the moaning woman's forehead."Her fever has lessened. But is not broken"

Then the woman's eyes opened and she started to scream. Her hands flailed out, catching the doctor with a fist across the nose. The man by the door rushed forward and helped the doctor, whose nose began to bleed, hold her down.

"I will not die here! I will not die!" She screamed. Blue eyes glazed with fever.

"You are alive. Do you hear? You live. But I will shoot you myself unless you stop this!" The man threatened.

Emma Hornblower was certain she was dreaming. Some terribly confusing nightmare. She stopped struggling and then stared up at the two men restraining her. One was portly and bald. The other had long fair hair and a scowling face covered with blond bristles on his chin and upper lip. She struggled to speak but her throat felt like it was on fire, along with the rest of her body. That, more than anything convinced her of the man's words. Dead people didn't experience pain and Emma felt as if every nerve in her body was screaming.

"Who are you?" She asked hoarsely. Her eyes scanned the cracked white walls; bright sun entered the room from above her. The door to her right was open, revealing a dark, stone grey corridor. She noticed the absence of the lulling of the Indefatigable beneath her. This bed was not her own. This room was not Horatio's cabin. And she was not dead. "Where am I?" Emma struggled beneath panic at her surroundings and gratitude that she was alive to experience the panic. Her eyes were threatening to close again and she shook her head, causing the throbbing in her head to increase.

"This is the doctor. I am Don Massarredo and you are now a prisoner of Spain." The fair-haired man explained in a thick Spanish accent.

Emma's eyelids fluttered closed along with her mind, not quite understanding the man's words. His voice sounded rather fuzzy to her. Something about masts and Spain.

"Oh, that's all right. We'll beat those Spaniards yet." She murmured and then slept again.

When she awoke the next day, the first thing Emma noticed were the bloody sheets in the corner of the room. The second was the considerably less pain in her body. Lifting her eyes, she saw the fair-haired man standing in the doorway.

"Who are you?" She asked clearing her aching throat.

"You are English." He remarked entering the room. He was a tall, lanky man. He poured some water from a jug on the table next to the bed and Emma lifted her head to drink.

"That wasn't my question. I know who I am. Who the bloody hell are you?" Emma asked scowling. The man cocked an eyebrow and gave her a mocking bow.

"Don Massarredo, Senorita. At your service."

Emma's eyes widened and her face paled. A Spaniard. Dear God, where was she?

"I apologize for the accommodations but is the best El Ferrol has to offer their prisoners." Emma startled, an icy fear clenching her chest tight.

"That is right, my little English one. You are a prisoner of the Spanish army." Don Massarredo informed her. "You have no need to fear me. If you do not cause trouble, you will be treated with the respect due a lady, prisoner or not."

Emma struggled to still her racing thoughts and find some comfort in his words. Spanish. Oh God. She was in Spain! The Indefatigable had been headed for Portugal when the storm hit. How did she end up in Spain? And even worse, how was Horatio going to find her? Had they reached Portugal? Did a border separate them now? How could Emma get to him? Did he know where she was?

"How did I end up here?" Emma asked looking beneath the blankets for a moment to assure herself she was dressed. She wore only her yellow shift and blouse. The skirts must have loosened in the water; she'd kept the waistband loose to accommodate her growing belly. Emma sat up with a horrified gasp. "My baby!" She choked. The man's eyes lowered. He dropped into the seat next to the bed."What?" Emma pressed. "WHAT?" She screamed when Don Massarredo didn't answer her. Her eyes went again to the bloody sheets in the corner and then back to the Don who's face was haggard and drawn in sympathy.

"Your child is dead."

Emma leaned back against the pillows, a shudder running through her. "You're lying." She said quietly, praying with everything in her that this was the case.

"I am sorry. The doctor, he did what he could but-"

"YOU'RE LYING!" Emma shrieked attacking him. She fell on top of him, both of them crashing to the floor. She bit, kicked, scratched as the Don struggled to stop her. The guard at the door rushed in and quickly pulled Emma off of Don Massarredo. "You're lying! You bastard! You fucking bastard!" Emma cried as the guard lifted her off her feet and painfully trapped her arms to her sides.

"Be very glad you're child is dead. For if it was not I would not take your grief into account and would shoot you right now." Don Massarredo said wiping the blood from his scratched jaw and cheek. Emma spat in his face in answer.

He slapped her hard across the face and for a second the sting was a welcome distraction from the grief choking her. "She's healthy enough. Take her to the cell." Don Massarredo ordered. The guard dragged her out of the room and down the corridor.

She was tossed into a damp, putrid cell with a single bed in the centre. Scratch marks covered the walls, some in single rows as if the previous prisoners were marking the days. She was dropped onto the bed and then left alone. The door was locked behind her and she could see the back of the guard's head through the dark bars in the small square opening.

_Your child is dead. _Oh no. Please God. _I curse you, God! _She remembered her defiance as she believed she was dying. This was her punishment. God had taken her child in retaliation of her words.

Emma curled up on the bed. _Oh I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. Emma_ thought sobbing. Apologizing, not to God but to Horatio. To her unborn and now never-to-be-born, child. God did not exist. Emma knew that for certain now. Her body ached with the force of her sobs but gradually, exhaustion claimed her again and Emma fell in into a fitful sleep.

She dreamt of her child. She was holding the little boy in her arms but instead of Horatio standing behind her, his arms around her and chin resting on her shoulder as he looked at her and their son, it was Archie. Archie, who gazed down with pride at the infant in Emma's arms. Archie's arms that held her lovingly against him. Archie, whose lips nuzzled her neck and caused familiar stirrings in Emma's body. When his hand came up to cup her breast, Emma came awake with a start. Unease tight in her belly. She shook the disturbing feelings from her mind and chalked the strange dream up the to the last remnants of her fever. She stifled a sob and tried to draw a small measure of comfort in that if there was a heaven, her child was there and her friend would take care of him. _Please, Archie. Watch over my baby._

Don Massarredo entered her cell an hour later. "How are you, this evening?"

"Better than you're going to be when my husband finds me and then kills you." Emma shot back. The corner of his mouth lifted and Emma wanted to smack the amused look off his face.

"I shall welcome him to try. Your husband. He is English as well?"

"Of course." Emma scowled. "And I'll be thrilled when he runs you through with his sword. I hope he chops your head off." She seethed.

"Very bloodthirsty talk from an English woman."

"Forgive me, the primitive surroundings and hateful company seems to have affected my manners." Emma gritted her teeth, resisted the urge to attack her captor again.

"Hmm. No doubt you would prefer the company of one of your countrymen." He linked his fingers together in front of him.

"Without question, Sir." Emma replied wishing he'd leave her alone.

"Then I shall grant your wish, senorita. Ah, my mistake, Senhora." He corrected. Emma narrowed her eyes at him.

"What are you blabbering on about?" She demanded curtly.

"We have a British officer in our prison. Though he's in no condition to wield a sword."

Emma froze, afraid to hope; yet her whole body was trembling with anticipation. _Oh God, Horatio! Thank you. Oh thank you, my God. I will never doubt you again._

"I could take you to him, if you promise to behave yourself." Don Massarredo offered, extending his hand. Emma was afraid to reach for it. Afraid that this would all be some dream and she'd wake up alone in her cell with no hope of ever seeing her beloved husband again. _Courage, Emma. For Horatio._

Emma was biting the inside of her cheek so hard she was tasting her own blood as the Don led her through the corridor to another cell. The stone floor cooled her bare feet as she walked. Then a door was opened and Emma held her breath. If Horatio was a prisoner here, she was certain they could find a way to escape together. The smell of decay and sweat hit her, making her take a step back. But she forced herself through the doorway. A long lump on the bed made Emma's heart start pounding. Tears sprung to her eyes. _Please._ She thought silently.

"On your feet, officer. There's a lady present." The Don ordered, poking the lump.

A whimper, but no other response."

"I said, on your feet!" Don Massarredo ordered pulling back the blankets A curtain of red, grimy hair covered his face, but startled, the body turned to face them and the hair fell away revealing familiar blue eyes.

Disappointment and shock paralysed Emma.

"No, Go away! Go away!" The man in the bed cried.

"Is this your husband?" Don Massarredo asked her. Emma couldn't breathe. _Archie? How can it be you? How is it possible? _Then guiltily, _Why aren't you Horatio? _ Emma looked from Don Massarredo to Archie. If Archie recognized her through his feverish gaze, he gave no indication. He turned away from them and pulled the blanket back up over his head.

Emma tried to think through her shock. If she said no, Don Massarredo would probably send her back to her cell. Alone. Maybe he'd let her stay here with Archie. _Archie? _ if she lied.

"Yes." Emma lied, her voice thick. "He's...this is my husband."

A.N: Okie ya'll. Hope you enjoyed this chapter. He's baaaaaaaaack! (winks) Now those of your who are familiar with my writing schedule know that now that we've reached five chapters of this one, I'll be switching to five chapters of my BSG fic Breathe which I'm writing at the same time as this. So this one will be without updates for wee bit, not too long. Just enough for my to update my BSG fic for five chapters and then I'll be right back here. Alternating like this is the only way I can make sure everyone gets new chapters in a reasonable amount of time. Happy reading!


	6. Chapter Six: Healing

Chapter Six

Emma tried to ignore the aching soreness of her body and forced herself to her knees next to Archie's bed.

"Mother Of God..." She murmured in awe as she placed her hand on his head. "How.. Archie? How?" His hair was dark, matted to his head by sweat and filth. "Archie. It's me. Emma." He gave no verbal response and but his eyes squeezed shut more tightly. His face was flushed from the heat of his cell. His once smooth angelic face, looked rather barbaric covered in red-gold bristles. Bruises dotted his forehead and cheeks. A long healed scar marred his right temple. She almost wouldn't have recognized him if it hadn't been for the soft curve of his mouth and the brilliant blue of his eyes. How Emma had missed those eyes! She dropped her head against his arm, uncaring of the foul stench emanating from him. She wasn't alone. Emma grasped the small comfort ferociously. In this nightmare of loss and fear, she had at least one friend.

"Archie. We have to get out of here. You have to help me."

No response.

"Dammit Archie, I know you're awake." She shoved his shoulder. He whimpered and rolled away from her. Archie pulled the blanket up over his head. "For heaven's sake. I'm not gonna hurt you, Archie. It's me. Emma. You remember me, don't you?" She asked the stubbornly silent lump.

Apparently not.

"Bloody hell." She sighed easing on to her bottom. Now what? Helpless tears filled her eyes. _Oh no you don't, Emma! _She scolded herself. Nothing ever got solved by blubbering like an infant. She'd just have to snap him out of whatever mental anguish seemed to have gripped Archie. She could not give into the panic that threatened at the thought that Archie might be of no help to her. She just wouldn't give up on him. That's all there was to it.

Her resolve weakened with the passing of the next two days. Archie didn't move from the bed. Not to eat. Not to speak Not to relieve himself. The only animation he displayed at all was during the night when his nightmares shook him so badly Emma was repeatedly awakened by his falls from his bed to the floor.

She was glad for the extra bunk in the room. Though there was no extra blanket or pillow on it, at least it was clean.

The guard came daily to bring food and Don Massaredo came every few days as well to check up on them.

"He needs a doctor." Emma insisted, though she knew his refusal would come as it always did. "I think he has a fever." She bit back a worried whimper when she placed her hand against Archie's hot face.

"His needs are of no concern to me. He will not be allowed out of his cell at no time. Your husband has repeatedly tried to escape in the past 2 years. I'm not so foolish as to allow him anywhere past this door."

"He needs medical attention. At least let the doctor come here then. Archie cannot be allowed to remain in these filthy clothes, filthy bed linens. It's all a breeding ground for bacteria. Rest assured that without medical attention whatever he suffers from could spread and wipe out the whole bloody lot of you and while I certainly wouldn't shed a tear, my own proximity to him makes me the next likely victim, Sir!" Emma snapped.

The doctor visited Archie the next day. "He's burning." He announced. His eyes met Emma's and then darted away quickly.

"Well thank you very much. I've been trying to tell you that for two days. If he doesn't get a cold bath in ice water soon, the convulsions will start." She pointed out.

"It's only a matter of time, Miss. Best let the illness just run it's course. Pray it'll be brief."

"What? No! You're not gonna let him die. You can't!" Emma pleaded furiously.

"Mr Kennedy has been nothing but a nuisance since the day he was handed over to us by the French. I shall be glad to be rid of him." Don Massaredo insisted leaning over the bed with a glare of disgust at Archie.

Emma forced herself to ignore him and focus on the doctor. "Please. You have to help him. Your oath is to help those you can-"

"He's beyond-"

"No! He's not. He's ill. Not dying. You can make him well. Please. Please." Emma added the last to Don Massaredo seeing that the order would have to come from him. "I beg you." She added, pushing aside any pride. She would not survive here alone. So help her, if they let Archie die she would tie her bed linens around the damn prison bars and hang herself. He was the only thing keeping her from doing so up to this point. Trying to bring him back from whatever gripped him kept her from thinking, grieving over her own losses. Without carrying for Archie to distract her. Emma was certain she would go mad.

And he reminded her of Horatio. There was nothing physical in the resemblance but it didn't matter. Archie was her last link to Horatio. They both had known him. Loved him. When she looked at Archie, she saw the three of them back on the Indy, together.

She placed shaky fingers against Archie's burning skin and pushed sweat soaked strands of hair off his forehead.

"Please." Emma whispered through a haze of tears. _Archie, don't leave me here. Don't leave me here alone. _The door closed behind her.

The doctor came the next morning with a wide steel tub filled with ice and water. Emma rushed to Archie's side and helped the doctor undress him.

"Thank you." She said as the man eased Archie up to a sitting position and pulled the filthy shirt off of him.

"If the fever hasn't killed him, m'am. This most likely will."

Emma tried not to think about that. "I'd rather try than not." Archie's skin was flushed against jutting bones. His skin slack with lack of muscle tone. As the rest of his clothes were removed, Emma tried to keep her eyes up on Archie's face, more to remind herself that this was her friend than from any sense of modesty. The Archie she knew had been slight but pleasantly filled out. The body being revealed to her was so far removed from that it brought tears to her eyes. His cheeks had been round and rosy. Now they were gaunt and clammy. Only his eyes, which fluttered open briefly now and then in question as he was moved around, reminded her of the friend she once knew.

The doctor lifted him easily. Emma braced herself for what Archie was about to go through and bit her lip to fight the urge to tell the doctor to stop.

She had to help hold Archie in the water. While the doctor scooped the ice over Archie's fevered body, while her friend screamed, swore, hit, cried, scratched and shook, Emma had to help add to his agony. When Archie lost consciousness, Emma felt a guilty pang of relief.

In intervals of five minutes, Archie was lifted out of the water and then placed back in again and again. They did this for three hours.

Then Emma insisted that Archie be placed in her bed and wrapped in clean sheets. She begged for thick clean blankets to wrap him in. She lay next to him and held his trembling body next to hers, willing the fever to break.

She slept in fits and starts for the next few days. No more than a few minutes at a time. The sound of Archie's rattling breathing woke her in the middle of the night. His blue eyes were near black in the darkness of the room as he stared at her. Emma pressed her fingers against his cheek and Archie's breath hitched at the touch, his throat making a slight whimpering sound. The skin beneath her fingers was cooler for the first time in nearly a week. She sagged against Archie in relief and pressed kisses on his face.

"Thank God. Oh thank God." She wept, her body light, relieved of it's burden of worry.

"I knew it'd be you...I knew yours would be the last face I saw on this earth." his blue eyes bright with delirium as they gazed at her face.

"Shhh, Archie. You're alright now. You're not gonna die. I won't let you." Emma said stubbornly. His fingers reached up weakly to stroke her cheek.

"How I love you..." he murmured falling back to sleep.

Emma shook her head, the poor man was delirious, seeing some sweethearts face instead of her own. Still, she pressed herself tight against him, wrapping her arm around his waist and spending the rest of the night listening as his breathing got easier.

A.N: Hope you guys enjoy this chapter!

Camreyn: So good to hear from you again! All very interesting questions and all will be answered, I promise. As for the baby, yeah, poor thing's gone but rest assured there will be other wee ones in the future.

ViperVixen33: Glad I could give you some distraction from college drudgery. Thanks so much for your lovely feedback!

ancatgaelige: Hope your enjoy this chapter!

Sweet A.K: Ah girl, and you always leave such great reviews too! Hope you enjoy this one too! (kicks in the balls)


	7. Chapter Seven: Demons

Chapter Seven

Physically, Archie began to heal. Mentally...Emma had never seen such pain. The fever had broken but Archie was still withdrawn into himself. Emma had to practically force him to eat, and most of the time it didn't work. The man seemed determined to die, and if illness wasn't going to accomplish the objective, he'd just will death to come.

The only times he spoke to her were after his fits which seemed to come every night now.

"I had not been troubled by them for some time. Not until you came." His eyes burned with resentment and Emma shrank back, curled up on her bunk and cried for she feared she was truly alone.

In his nightmares he called out her name and Jack Simpson's name with equal torment. Emma began to wonder if the reason she was relieved that he was here with her was the same reason he seemed to hate her for it. The Indefatigable. Jack Simpson.

Of course. Emma thought, staring at Archie's sleeping form in the dark, chilly cell. _He doesn't know about Simpson! _Something so simple to alleviate his pain and yet it had never ocurred to Emma in the time she'd been imprisoned with Archie to share that fact with him!

"Archie." Emma whispered, a hand on his shoulder. No response. She shook him a little harder.

"Mnnhgway." He mumbled, turning away from her.

Emma grit her teeth trying to reign in her patience. "Archie. I want to talk to you. Wake up." He didn't turn to face her but his body became very still.

"You need not fear Simpson anymore. He's dead. Do you hear me, Archie? He can't hurt you anymore." She'd seen the scars on his naked body. Lashes, stab wounds, bite marks, burn marks. She had run her fingers over them as tears poured down her face for the pain her friend had suffered all these years.

A short bitter snort. "Then he shall torment me in hell, no doubt."

"You're not going to hell! Now stop this right this minute!" Emma snapped. Regretting her outburst, she rested her hand on the back of his head. "Archie. Please. You have to eat. You have to get strong. I can't escape with out you, nor will I. We have to get back to Horatio. He thinks your dead and more than likely thinks the same of me. Don't you want to bring him the joy of seeing us again?" It made Emma's insides tighten with panic to think that Horatio was never going to find her because he simply wasn't looking. She had fallen overboard. Logic would follow that she was dead.

"You'll never escape." He said, his voice thick with defeat.

"I'd rather try than not." Emma pointed out.

"Five times, I tried. Got further away from England every time. Should have saved myself the grief."

"But didn't you feel better for trying?" Emma pressed. She could not allow him to simply give up.

"No. Because the last time I tried they locked me up in a hole in the earth for a month with no room to stand up or lie down. Now leave me alone." He replied.

Emma's eyes filled tears, imagining him trapped in that hole. She kissed the back of his head, considerably cleaner now. He jerked away from her, which broke her heart just that much more.

The don let her walk outside a few times a day and even let her sometimes assist the prison doctor a few times if she was sufficiently docile and cheerful.

Emma learned to fake it.

"He's still not eating." Emma whispered to the doctor as she helped bandage a prisoner's infected thigh. "He can't continue in this manner."

"Your husband seems determined to die, lass. I suggest you wash your hands of it. You have troubles of your own to concern yourself with. In case you've forgotten, you're a prisoner yourself.

"Can't you get the Don to order Archie to eat?" Emma pressed.

At this the doctor laughed. "And what do you expect the Don to threaten him with if your Mr. Kennedy chooses to disobey?"

Emma wanted to scream at the bloody frustration of it all though, she knew an outburst would merely get her locked back up in her cell.

She'd get no help from anyone when it came to Archie. She only wish she knew how to bring him out of whatever madness seemed to have gripped him.

Six months. Six months with a man who was a pale shadow of the friend she knew. A man who the further he pulled away from her, the more he frightened her.

"Archie, why do you want to die?" Emma asked one night as she stroked his sweat dampened hair after another of his nightmares. "If you care for me, even a little, why won't you fight to get better? Don't you realize how alone I'd be if you died. Do you want to leave me alone here, Archie? What happened to you to make you so...so.." She was being selfish, but at this point, was beyond caring.

Archie let out a snort of bitter, tired laughter. "Weak? Useless? Insignificant?"

"Damn you, Archie Kennedy! You are not a weakling! But I never thought you a coward." Emma hissed angrily. She hadn't meant that! Oh she hadn't! But Archie didn't seem hurt by her words. He simply stared at her, as if goading her to continue her tirade against him.

He wanted her furious at him. He wanted her rage. Her disgust. Her hate. "What is it that gnaws at you? I told you Simpson was dead. What more could you possibly have to fear?" Then teasing memories of conversations she'd had with Horatio about Archie began to whisper at the back of her mind. She sat herself down on Archie's bed and took a moment to try and thread the words into something that would make things clearer for her. "What did Simpson know about you? What was he using to hurt you? Archie, please. It's been months and I've been so alone. So afraid all the time. Won't you please, please tell me what happened to make you want to die so very badly?" She sniffled, her eyes burning. Emma saw that he was unnerved by her tears. Pain flashed in his eyes but he shook his head.

"You innocent child. You stupid, blissfully ignorant woman. Go to sleep, Emma. Go to sleep and dream of your beloved hero Horatio coming to save you. Be glad you know nothing of the horrors of this world. Of men like Jack Simpson. Of men like me."

"You're nothing like-"

"Goddamnit, woman! Leave me in fucking peace!" Archie shouted at her, pushing her off his bed.

Emma landed painfully on her behind, scraping her wrist on the icy cold stone floor, staring at Archie's now turned back. God help her. Something had to be done. Before he began to drive her insane as well.

It took her a week to try and find some way to get through to Archie. Jack Simpson was dead. There was no way to change that. But what if Archie's depression was a result of not only being hurt by Simpson, but in not being able to stop Simpson from hurting him? What if Archie's self loathing was because Simpson was stronger than he was and so Archie was unable to fight back? Could defeating Simpson somehow bring back Archie's feeling of self worth and his will to live?

It took her another two weeks to gather her courage to accomplish what Emma feared she would have to do if Archie was to ever return to her.

A.N: Things are about to get really dark and uncomfortable for some people.

ezaspi: Jill! (huggies you) I'm so glad you're enjoying this one too! Have you seen all the HH films yet? If not, you must, must! Hope you like...er...maybe like is the wrong word. Well, hope you still continue reading. (laughs)

dd2115: Thanks for your feedback! Glad you're enjoying it so far.

RamblerGaelige: (huggies) Glad you're enjoying it!

Camreyn: Thankie for your always great feedback. I love reading your comments! I'm about to break your heart even more completely in the next chapter. (cringes) So will Emma and Archie get together romantically? (smiles)


	8. Chapter Eight: The Monster Is Awakened

Chapter Eight

Emma's heart was in her mouth as she walked back to her cell. A pair of scissors were hidden in the folds of her skirt along with an extra change of men's clothing. As Archie slept, a drowsing powder having been mixed in with his water earlier, Emma pulled the clothes from beneath her skirt and began to change.

The doctor was dead. Shot in a prison skirmish the day before. Emma was now the only medically trained person available. This gave her access to medications and powders that would help Emma's purpose in helping her friend.

Her hands were shaking. The scissors dropped from her fingers to the floor with a blasted loud clang. Emma's eyes went immediately to Archie. He stirred, but didn't wake. Every fear in Emma cried out against this. This was insanity. Putting herself on a path when she had no clue what was coming down the road.

The guard was no longer posted at their door. It had been part of her deal with Don Massaredo. She would attend the prisoners if he removed the guard from outside their room. There were only a few guards posted outside their section of the prison, and they stood outside. Emma had no guarantee that they wouldn't hear Archie if he got violent. She had only hope that they wouldn't.

She looked at the scissors. A silly burst of vanity rejected raising the blades and snipping off her red-gold locks but Emma forced herself to make that first cut. Nothing for it now. Hair fell down her shoulders, onto her skirt and down to the floor. Traitorous images assaulted her as she snipped. Horatio's hands in her hair, cupping her face as he kissed her, fanning her hair against the pillow. Her hair wrapped around them both like curtain as she moved her body on top of him. _No... _Emma begged. _Please... _Tears mingled with the strands of hair on her skirt. _Let me do this. Leave me be. _

She knew what it was like to be tormented by her thoughts as Archie was. Horatio was there, in her dreams at the back of her mind, always. She wanted to hate him for not coming to save her. Yet all she felt was yearning for him. A desire she knew would never be satisfied because Horatio believed her dead.

Her unborn child tormented her as well. The tiny unformed life called to Emma in her dreams. She could see the little boy in her mind's eye. Dark hair and eyes, like it's father. A serious baby who didn't cry, merely stared at her with accusation in his eyes. _You killed me. I am dead because of you. _Emma closed her eyes, fighting the waves of guilt and sadness that threatened to break her. _Not now dammit! I cannot give in to this now. I could not save you, my darling boy. But I can save him. I will save him. _Emma watched Archie begin to stir as his nightmares came upon him.

Certain that her hair was now the right length, she tied it back. Limbs heavy, Emma moved to Archie's bed and sat down, her heart racing. Her hands ice cold. She hesitated unsure of what she was about to do. What would happen when she made Archie face Jack Simpson once again? Would it even work? Emma blinked back her tears. There was no other option but to try. She wrapped her fingers around the back of Archie's neck, the skin was damp and hot with the sharp smelling sweat of fear.

Emma felt Archie's body go rigid as sleep mixed with reality. _Forgive me, _Emma thought. She leaned in close to his ear and whispered the last hateful words she'd heard Jack Simpson say to Archie. "Jack's missed you boy."

Archie let out a cry of rage and flipped them both so that Emma threatened to fall off the bed. She grabbed his shirt, but it tore and she fell to the floor, Archie on her back.

"Not again, you bastard!" he screamed, knees pressing hard against Emma's hips "Never again! I'll kill you. I will fucking kill you!" His hands went around Jack/Emma's neck and he began to squeeze.

_Oh God! No! _Her mind raced trying to think. Her throat begged for air. _This wasn't the way it was supposed to happen! _She arches her head, scratching at Archie's fingers but they're like steel around her small neck.

"Archie...please..." Emma choked, her words coming out as nothing more that pleading croaks. She shifted frantically beneath him, trying to twist out from his tight grip. She only succeeded in intensifying the pain of his grip. Emma briefly remembered the sensation of drowning, that fight for air. She tried to kick her feet, shifting her knees to lift her body so Archie's grip would ease.

"I'm going to kill you, you evil spawn of the devil. I'm going to kill you." Archie breath was warm and low against her ear.

"Archie. For God's sake. It's me! It's Emma." Emma managed to burst out when he shifted his body low so that he's resting against her bottom.

"Don't you say her name." Archie hissed through grit teeth. He grabbed Jack/Emma's hair and slammed her head into the ground.

Pain exploded through Emma's skull and her vision blurred, teasing her with near unconsciousness. She frantically held it off. Knowing if she lost consciousness now she'd have no chance of getting through to him. Archie would kill her and then come to himself with her blood on his hands.

Dear God. What had she been thinking? What the hell had she been hoping to accomplish by summoning this monster? Salvation for Archie. But she'd had no clue how deep Archie's madness ran. _Help me..._ Yet something stopped her from crying out. Something stopped her from crying out to the guards for help. Perhaps it was the knowledge that if they came and saw Archie attacking her, they'd kill him without question. Perhaps it was arrogance on her part, thinking she alone could get through to him.

She felt blood against her forehead, sliding against the floor. Her the skin on her chin and nose were raw from being scraped against the stones.

"You don't deserve to speak her name. Do it again and I will cut out your tongue." Archie's hand moved from her throat and Emma eagerly gulped in blissful air. Coughing, she struggled to speak, to turn and face him but Archie was too heavy.

"Archie, please. Wake up. Please. You don't want to hurt me. It's-" Emma stopped herself before repeating her name again and getting another bashing in. "It's your friend. You know me. You don't want to do this." She shook with the force of the panic and adrenaline racing through her blood. _Keep calm...calm... Oh Horatio, wherever you are. Help me! Help him! _

"Oh but I do, Jack. I want to kill you. Kill you for everything you've done to me. All the times you hurt me. Abused me. Broken me. Now, I'm going to break you. Hurt you as you've hurt me. Shame you as you've shamed me. I will break you before I send you to the devil, you fucking bastard."

Then he was tearing at her. Tearing her breeches, pulling them down off her bottom and Emma's eyes grew wide with horror. _What was he doing? What? Stop!_

"Archie, no! No! Stop!"

"Now you'll feel what I felt, all those years. Now it's you who will cry out in pain."

"For God's sake, Archie. I'm not him! I'm not Jack!" Emma pleaded readying herself to scream. An animalistic panic surged through her. She didn't care if the guard came now and shot Archie in the head. She only wanted to stop what she feared was about to-

Violent, tearing pain stole the scream from her throat as her best friend thrust his cock into her from behind. Shock held her still, unable to move, to scream. Then he was beating her over the head with his free fist. The other against her back, holding Emma down.

_It was this. Oh my God. It was this they were keeping secret!_ Emma realized, feeling the vomit rise from her stomach up into her throat. The pain of the assault made everything sharper. Every thought.

"Now you know how I felt. Now you know!" Archie cried, thrusting unevenly.

_Yes, now I know. _Emma thought sobbing, partly from the pain being inflicted on her body, partly from the depth of the horror she now understood. _Oh Archie... _

He seemed pleased with her tears, thinking them Jack Simpson's tears. "Yes, you fucking bastard. Cry like the yellow bellied coward you are!"

The pain began to ease somewhat and Emma stopped fighting inside. She went very still, and very quiet. Her sobs, silent. He did not know what he was doing. Emma was certain he was still in the grip of his nightmare. He would never know what had really happened. He'd only know that while he slept, he had fought Jack Simpson and won. Perhaps finally that victory would purge him of the burden of shame Jack Simpson had cast upon him. Could Emma endure this for Archie?

Then Archie's hand moved from her back across to her rib cage, to the curve of her left breast.

He stopped moving, his shaft swollen but still inside of her. His breath hitched and she heard the whimper of confusion.

Emma closed her eyes and grit her teeth. _Don't awaken now! Dear God, not now!_ If he became aware of what he'd done...Emma didn't want to think about what he would do. Not to her. To himself. God help her, what had she done to them both?

His hand moved further and he pulled her shoulder back until he cupped her full breast in his hand.

Archie pulled himself out of her and turned her onto her back with shocking speed. His blue eyes, now open, widened and he let out a hoarse cry like a wounded animal.

"Emma?"

She said nothing, just stared up at him. Then he gripped her face in his hands.

"What have I done? What in the name of God have I done?" He shouted at her.

A.N: Well, if you're all still speaking to me, I hope you...not enjoyed (cringed) but read that and was as affected by it as I was writing it. It was supposed to be violent, uncomfortable and heartbreaking. It was a necessary scene for the story as I wanted to tell it. If I don't get a new chapter out before then, happy holidays everybody!

ViperVixen33: Was that dark enough for ya? (cringes) Thanks for your always lovely feedback.

RamblerGaelige: Thankie for your feedback. I don't know the fandom of the story you mentioned and I really am so behind on giving feedback that I'm not taking on any new stories that aren't in the fandoms I write in and even the ones I do critique are up to almost 200 in my mailbox story folder so I apologize, I just have too many I still have to read.

Camreyn: (laughs) I love your feedback. The authors note was for everybody. I felt I had to give ample warning for how horrific the chapter was gonna be. No, Emma's not depriving herself of food. Unfortunately Emma's right. Horatio thinks she's dead so he's not looking. After this chapter we turn a corner and there will be light at the end of the tunnel coming up soon.


	9. Chapter Nine: Damage Control

Chapter Nine

"Emma! Answer me!" Archie pleaded, his fingers pressing into her cheeks.

Emma squeezed her eyes shut, trying to shut out the horror on his face. The horror of it all. She forced herself to meet Archie's eyes then lowered her gaze. Archie followed her eyes, saw his half naked, still partly aroused state and jerked away from her. Emma groaned in pain as the back of her head smacked against the ground.

"Sweet God! Emma. Oh God. Are you alright? Did I hurt you? Fucking hell." Archie groaned in disgust, adjusting his clothing.

Two guards burst into the room, apparently having heard the commotion and drew their pistols, shouting at Archie and Emma in Spanish, sending splitting pain through Emma's head.

"No!" Emma shrieked holding her hands up and trying to position herself in front of Archie. "No! It was only a nightmare. Bad dream. Bad sleep." she insisted, hoping they would get the picture before she passed out as her dizzy mind threatened to do any second now.

They stared at her torn clothing and scratched face and turned to Archie threateningly.

Archie said a few words in Spanish, and Emma watched him in surprise, though she imagined having spent two years in a Spanish prison, Archie was bound to have picked up a phrase or two.

"You are well, Senora?" the short, stubby guard asked in broken English.

"Yes...uh...si. Si." Emma repeated and forced herself to place an arm around Archie to show that she was perfectly all right. She felt the tremble of his skin. Or was that hers?

They snapped what Emma assumed was an order to keep it down and then left them alone again.

Archie stared at her carefully and Emma kept her gaze down in her lap.

"Emma. Tell me I didn't...please...tell me I didn't...please." Archie begged wide-eyed.

She briefly considered lying. But having been through this himself, he'd see through Emma easily. Every part of her hurt, but nowhere so intensely as where he'd viciously entered her. He's felt this pain, how many times? Or does one get used to it and the pain fades as with normal intercourse? Emma wondered, her heart breaking, waves of sorrow battling with her shock. She reached out and covered his hand with her own, needing to touch him. To remind herself why she had gone through this.

His shoulders sagged and he shook his head. "You should have let them shoot me." Archie said, his voice low and hoarse with grief.

Emma felt a burst of fury and she shot out her hand with out thinking, slapping him hard across the face.

"I did not go through all that just have you get shot. Damn you!" She snapped then covered her mouth, in shock over what she had done.

He jerked back, landing on his bottom and stared at her in surprise, but there was a glint of something else in his eyes, satisfaction, Emma guessed. He probably wanted her to scream, to rant and rave at him, but Emma simply couldn't. Logic told her she should be curled up in a ball sobbing over this violation by a man she considered a friend, and yet, Emma felt as if there was wall where access to her rage and pain should be. Instead, she felt...scattered. As if she were glass shards, on the floor in every direction and her mind was fighting through a thick fog to reach for each piece and put it back together. But a glass once broken, it never really comes together in the same way again, does it? Emma wondered distantly. One can always see the cracks where the breaks occurred.

Emma focused on Archie. She took his hand again, squeezed the strong fingers. He had meant her no harm. The devastation on his face attested to that if Emma needed more proof. She forced herself to anchor herself on those words, past the throbbing pain of her entire body. There was her logic and she needed to grasp it or fall into the sobbing mess of shock and pain that threatened. He had meant her no harm, had not been himself. Had not even been conscious, for sod's sake! Emma had picked up that particular turn of phrase from Styles. She clenched her eyes closed, biting back the whimpers that bubbled in her throat. Archie was not a danger to her now. Anymore. Emma took a few deep, shaky breaths before opening her eyes again.

His legs, outstretched, cradled her thighs. His blue eyes clouded with confusion at her words and then he took in her appearance again. More closely.

Emma felt a knot of dread form in her throat. Damn her big mouth!

"Your hair. It's...Did you cut your hair?"

"I need you to live, Archie. If not for yourself, then for me. Do you want me to spend the rest of my life here?" Trying to avert him from his current train of thought.

"Why are you wearing men's clothing?" He asked, ignoring her words. Then he pushed himself up on his knees and scratched his head. "I dreamt that...he." Archie remembered, watching her, and Emma supposed it would have been better to deceive him, had she been able to meet his gaze.

She rubbed her fingers against the material of the trousers she wore. Having never worn anything but skirts, she would have liked to have been able to devote some time marvelling over the freedom of movement trousers afforded her and how much easier men seemed to have it, but for now, her attention was occupied on avoiding Archie's questions.

Emma saw him go very still and heard him swear under his breath.

"Emma. Look at me." He demanded.

"I don't-" She shook her head, bracing herself for the explosion of anger she knew would come.

"Dammit woman! What the bloody hell have you done?" He grabbed her arms and shook her, his fingers dinging into the soft flesh of her upper arms.

The panic in her eyes must have made him reign in his emotions. His grip eased and he lowered his head.

"I didn't know what else to do." Emma said softly, trembling, her eyes burning. "I couldn't reach you, and I was so scared and I just wanted to go home! You just wanted to die!" The tears rolled down her face.

His hands lifted and then lowered, fists clenching and unclenching in hesitation. "Emma. Can I-? Is it all right if-?" He asked slowly.

Emma lowered her head against his chest and let her sobs drench his nightshirt. She felt his hands come around her back very gently, as if he was afraid to touch her.

"I know you thought you were weak because of how Simpson tormented you. I thought if you could defeat him, you might...I don't know...regain your will?" She continued when her crying fit subsided. "I didn't know. I didn't."

"Sweet bloody Christ. You brave, stupid woman." He whispered into her hair, his arms tightening around her. " I hurt you so. I'm so sorry, darling. You'll never know how very sorry I am. I don't expect your forgiveness but I'm selfish enough to ask for it."

"Archie. You were not yourself. Do you feel...better?"

"For God's sake, I just raped-"

"No! No. That's not... the same. I don't blame you. But you seem, I suppose, different would be the word. Clearer. Are you? Do you still want to die?"

"I'd slit my own throat if I could take back what I've just done to you." He hissed, gripping her face in his hands. "But no." He replied honestly. "I feel...I think that's the right word. Clearer somehow. As if a fog has been lifted from my mind."

"You ask for my forgiveness." Emma pulled back and raised her hand to his cheek, forcing back a burst of violent sense memory at the feel of his skin beneath her fingers. "I would do it again." She admitted, blinking back tears. "I promise you. If it brought back the friend I had, the friend I loved so. I would do it again." She assured him, reaching up and pressing her lips to the soft bristles on his chin.

Archie's breath caught and he made a small sound as his body sagged with what Emma imagined was relief. His face was damp with tears. He shook his head and his fingers wove through her hair. "Stupid, brave woman." He repeated holding her.

Emma shuddered, instinct wanting to pull back, away from this man that brutalized her but she looked up, forcing herself to see Archie. He was her friend, who would never intentionally harm her and she fought her fear. She felt it lift and ease with the rise and fall of his chest against her ear as Emma sagged back into his embrace and thanked God she was no longer alone.

A.N: Things should get easier...or harder, depending on how you look at it, from now on. (laughs)

Sweet A.K: Thankie! I'm glad I could entertain you from all that horrible academia. Hope you like this chapter too!

Camreyn: Thankie for your lovely feedback. Emma's pretty much at her wit's end so she's has no idea if bringing Simpson into the picture via herself is the right decision or not, all likelyhood seems that no, for the reason you said. Hurting Emma would only compound Archie's guilt and shame, but it ends up working because it's Emma's forgiveness that saves him. She has no clue as to his feelings for her and it's his desire to fix what he did to her that saves him in a way. He dreams that he battles Simpson and turns everything that was done to him, back on Simpson. That empowers him. The fact that Emma put herself through that for him, also snaps him out if it a bit. He wants to recover now, for her. He wants her safe and out of the prison. Hope that makes it clearer. That particular chapter won't result in any wittle Crumpets. (smiles) I enjoy twisted. See previous chapter.

RamblerGaelige: Not sure if that means you liked it or not but hope you enjoy this chapter!

Vipervixen33:(huggies you) Thankie for your always entertaining feedback! Hope you like this chapter.


	10. Chapter Ten: Light In The Dark

Chapter Ten

He slept.

Emma would lie awake on her bunk and watch Archie's chest rise and fall in the darkness. She waited days, hours, minutes, seconds. Nightmares did not terrorize him into waking. He had not had a fit in weeks. Not since that night.

It had been three weeks since Emma had brought Jack Simpson back from the dead and brought Archie back to her. He still woke with sadness in his eyes, but at least he awoke. She wondered if she'd ever see him smile again. When the sadness and guilt she saw there became too much for her, she was almost glad for the distraction of caring for the other prisoners.

Some were sick. Sick in body. Those, Emma knew how to heal. Apply the right treatment and the fever went down. The coughing stopped. The infection disappeared.

Some were wounded, by bullet or whip. Either brought to the prison in that state, or as punishment for an escape attempt. Apply the right treatment and the lashes healed. The bullet was removed. The wound closed.

Some were sick in the heart. Like Archie. These men wanted to die. Had given up all hope. Waited until their bodies gave in to the will of their minds and just stopped. Like Archie, Emma didn't know how to help them. She did not know the demons these men possessed. Nor did she have the courage to battle them as she did for Archie.

So she sat with them. Talked with them sometimes. Smiled at them and told jokes that sometimes made them laugh. Jokes no lady should know, but she was glad a ship full of male officers and ship's crew had taught her.

"A sailor and a pirate walk into a bar. They sit down next to each other, get to talking and their chat soon turns to their sea adventures. The sailor tells of his days fighting wars with the Navy, and the pirate tells of robbing ships and killing his enemies with the other pirates.  
The sailor notices that the pirate has an eye patch, a hook and a peg leg and asks, "How did you get the peg leg?"  
The pirate replies, "When I was thrown off my ship and floated for two days until my crew rescued me, my leg was bitten off by a shark as I was being pulled out of the water."  
The sailor, impressed, says, "Wow. That's very exciting. But how about the hook?"  
The pirate smiles, shining the hook a bit, "When I was sword fighting with a pirate from our enemy ship for treasure, he took it right off.''  
The sailor's eyes were wide with awe at how bad this pirate was, and he asked,  
How did you get the eye patch?"

"Well," says the pirate, shifting in his seat a bit, "a seagull shite in my eye."  
The seaman looks puzzled: "You lost an eye from gull shite?"  
The pirate sighed and shook his head. "It was my first day with the hook." That one always got a laugh. When it didn't, Emma knew it would be only a matter of days before the prisoner's body followed his mind and both were lost. She was rarely wrong.

She sometimes sat with Don Massaredo at his table for meals. He liked the company and she got to save half her plate for Archie.

"You do a very good job with the men. Better than our last doctor." The Don said, taking a healthy gulp of wine.

"And of course this surprises you." Emma said trying not to grit her teeth.

"In one so young, yes. And a woman? Dios, save us all. But it is not of the medicine, I speak. You spend time with them. Joke with them. I see the difference."

"I imagine anything in a dress would improve the disposition of men who likely haven't seen a female in a significant period of time." Emma offered, trying not to preen like a peacock at the compliment.

"Doubtless that is true."

She deflated slightly.

"But I see the men look forward to when you come. Men who would willingly let death take them, have some light in their day. You give them that. It's a good thing you do. Though I suppose I shouldn't encourage the habit considering El Ferrol is too full as it is." His voice was stern, but she saw the corners of his mouth lift when he looked down into his plate and broke off a piece of bread.

He ran his prison with an iron fist. But unprovoked, Don Massaredo was not an evil man. The guards respected him. The prisoners feared him as Emma imagined he wanted. What chaos would reign if a prison keeper was a soft hearted man who molly-coddled the prisoners? No. Emma did not like the man. He was much too brutal and seemed to enjoy his power over those in his cages a little too much. But neither did she hate him. He just was. He was a part of her existence now in this world enclosed by bars and stone walls.

He made no move to take advantage of her and Emma was especially grateful for that.

He liked to read. Don Massaredo kept a small library of books in a ragged beige three shelf bookcase in the dining room. The second shelf was missing a bolt so that the books on that shelf titled slightly downwards on the left.

She thought they were all Spanish texts but today she noticed a few English titles as well. One of them Shakespeare.

"I did not know you could read English." Emma said.

"I learned a few years back. One of our prisoners was an English teacher."

"He taught you to read English. Did he earn his freedom in return?"

Don Massaredo took a healthy gulp of his wine before answering.

"No. He was hanged shortly after." He rose from his chair, taking the glass of wine with him and made his way to the bookcase.

Emma blinked in surprise but followed him. She did not even bother objecting to the unfairness of the man dying. Don Massaredo would not appreciate her opinion on the matter. "Could I ask to borrow the volume of Shakespeare?" She felt a small burst of excitement as she imagined the look on Archie's face when she walked in with it.

"You may ask." Don Massaredo said pulling the book out. It was one of a set. The others weren't on the shelf. Emma thought he probably only had the one.

"May I please borrow the book?" Emma narrowed her eyes at him, not amused.

He handed it to her and she hugged it to her chest. If this didn't put a smile on Archie's face nothing would.

When she rushed into the room, Archie lay on the cot staring up at the ceiling as he usually did. Massaredo be damned, Archie needed some time outside. Fresh air, exercise.

"Archie, I have surprise for you." Emma smiled at him, rushing over to his bunk and kneeling beside it.

His eyes followed her hands as they placed the book on his chest.

"What is this?" He asked tonelessly, then his mouth dropped open as he studied the book more closely. "Is this?…" With great effort he pulled himself into a sitting position.

Emma quickly adjusted the pillow at his back.

His fingers ran over the embossed letters on the worn leather cover. "Dear God…" Quickly, he flipped it open and choked on a gasp. "Hamet…Twelfth Night…Taming of The Shrew…Romeo and Juliet…As You Like It… Oh God, Emma." The book shook in his hands and when he raised his eyes to her, the red rimmed gratitude in them brought tears to her own eyes.

"You like it? I asked the Don if we could borrow it. Break up the monotony. Though I imagine you'll have your hands full explaining every other sentence to me. I'm afraid I'm quite useless at Shakespeare." Emma prattled on because the way he was staring at her so intently was quite unnerving. He looked as if she'd just walked in with the keys to their freedom. "Well goodness, Archie. I at least expected a thank you." She said with an attempt at lightness.

He did not thank her with words. His hand spanned the back of her neck and brought her head close to his and met her mouth with his own.

A.N:

ViperVixen 33: Thankie for your lovely feedback. (huggies) Things are getting a bit brighter for those two.

Camreyn: I always love reading your feedback! Horatio won't learn about that night. It'll stay between Archie and Emma. We'll see Horatio later on in the book but for now, I'm keeping things focused in Emma's point of view. Because she and Archie are in such close proximity, sharing a cell together, Emma is going to have to buck up and push aside any feelings about the attack for now. But it won't be easy for her and it will show itself in little ways. It also helps her that she knows Archie would never intentionally hurt her. It makes the forgiving process easier. Because of what they go through together in this book, there will always be a secret under current between Archie and Emma. I'm glad you like the chapter titles! (laughs) I like to add those.

Sweet A.K: (huggies) It's fun to be evil sometimes. Archie is getting the point that Emma needs him to stay alive, otherwise I do think he'd slit his throat after doing that to her. Yep, I will be bringing Horatio and the Duchess into the book later on. Poor boy could really use those chocolates. Thankie! Hope you like this chapter too!

Lady Rheena: Yes, we have Archie Bear! (laughs) Thanks so much for following me over here! Thankie for your lovely feedback. Hope you continue to enjoy the rest of the story!


	11. Chapter Eleven: A Kiss Is Just A Kiss

**Chapter Eleven**

Emma let out a gasp that Archie swallowed into his mouth and her eyes flew open. Heat swam through her blood mixing with the shock that held her rigid against him. Oh no, she thought. Good heavens, no! But her body seemed to be leaning towards him and her arms wanted to rise and touch some part of him. Him. Archie. Good lord, what was wrong with her?

His mouth moved slowly, his tongue tracing the inside of her lower lip while his hands rested on her shoulders before moving upwards to cup her face. Emma started at the warmth of his fingers. Sweet Lord, this was madness. Neither one of them were thinking clearly. Gratitude, that was all, Emma told herself. He was merely thankful for the book and this was his still fragile mind's way of expressing it. She refused to note that his mind was, while still in a state of depression, no longer in the confused state of dementia she had found him. She should stop him.

He would only become embarrassed.

How would they face Horatio when her husband rescued them?

_Oh my._

Emma shivered against him. He was so very warm, she told herself, and she was so very lonely. Was it so very wrong to take this bit of comfort that she had missed so much?

Yes, it most certainly was! Archie was not her husband. Horatio was. And Horatio was the man she loved.

But Horatio was not here. May never come if he believed her dead. Of course, why would he think differently? She'd gone over in the storm and was lost to him.

She let out a whimper and felt her eyes burn with tears. The sound made Archie go still and he jerked away from her as if she'd burned him.

"Shit." He whispered, blinking as his eyes remained locked on her mouth. Then he raised his gaze to Emma and let out a whimper of his own. "Forgive me. My God. How could I do such a thing?"

"It's all right, Archie." Emma assured him, her voice still slightly breathless. She cleared her throat and tried to get a reign on her scattered emotions.

"No, it is most certainly not. I..I can't believe I did that, took advantage after what I've already done to--" Archie scrambled farther across his mattress as if he feared her, or perhaps himself.

"Don't. You must stop beating yourself up about that. I have already...there is nothing to forgive on that score and we must put that ugly moment behind us. This had nothing, nothing to do with...that." Emma insisted, wrapping her arms around herself, suddenly cold now that Archie's warmth had left her.

"Emma, this was inexcusable. Horatio would never--"

Emma met his eyes and her panic must have shown in her eyes because Archie stopped and shook his head.

"It was a mistake, nothing more. We won't speak of it again." He said, his voice thick. Archie closed his eyes and Emma felt a prick of...regret? No, sadness, she assured herself. Sympathy for Archie's discomfort was all it was.

"Would you read to me? I would like to learn about these stories that you've always held in such high esteem." Emma asked, wanting to desperately get back to when Archie always smiled at her and made her laugh. Where was that man and when would he return? Needless to say her attempt to cheer him up with the volume of Shakespeare had not gone quite as expected.

"Perhaps some other time. I'm rather tired." He replied tonelessly sliding down under the blanket, holding the book to his chest and turning away from her.

"Oh." Emma said, disappointed. "Of course. I'll leave you to rest for a little while." She spared him a final sad glance before walking out of the room.

She decided a walk might alleviate her melancholy. The warm sun was beginning to set, bringing with it the promise of a chilly night. Summer was ending. Good lord, a few more months and she'll have been here a full year.

"Horatio, please come find me. Please." She whispered softly, willing the words to somehow carry in the wind and touch her husband's heart. "Don't believe I'm dead. Come for me, my darling husband." Her eyes filled with tears and before she could stop herself, Emma was sobbing. She sat down on the ground, drew up her knees to her chest and sobbed into her arms. Sobbing out her frustration, hopelessness and grief. Emma was always one to hold herself composed, restraining the urge to dissolve into tears like some of the weak ladies she knew, but she surprised herself by feeling somewhat better after her crying fit. She sat against the prison wall and took in deep gulps of air, shivering slightly but turning her face towards the sun letting it warm her while she closed her eyes. Oddly, now that she had let go of her emotions in such a tidal wave, she felt...hopeful.

A flutter of yellowish white dangling in front of her eyes startled her. Emma reached up for the handkerchief just as it was pulled out of her grasp. She looked up in confusion and recognized one of Massaredo's guards. Julio? Javier? Something like that, Emma decided, trying to remember. He was a normally grumpy man, with a scowl seemingly pasted permanently on his face. Short and fat, with one missing tooth in the front among a row of decayed teeth. His full head of curly black hair looked like it hadn't seen a washbasin in a good many months...along with the rest of him if the stench emanating off his stained clothing was any indication.

He spoke...spit, Emma amended fighting a shudder of revulsion, something in Spanish. She had picked up a healthy understanding of the language but still liked to pretend she didn't understand the guards when she had to walk past them and they made lewd comments. The guard laughed and lowered the soiled handkerchief to her, again lifting it out of her reach when she lifted her hand to take it.

"Hardly amusing." Emma scowled as he laughed. A fat finger slid down the side of her face to her collar, making her gasp and jerk sideways. She gave him her fiercest glare, her stomach tightening uncomfortably. "Keep your fingers to yourself, Sir!" She quickly got to her feet.

He merely laughed and shouted something along the lines of, she'd better be nice to him and Spanish men being able to satisfy their women better than the English. Emma squeezed her eyes shut and forced herself to walk away rather than give in to the urge to smack the lascivious grin off his bloated face.

"Javier!" Don Massaredo's booming voice carried from under the stone archway behind them. The Don angrily stormed towards them and informed the guard that while Emma was a prisoner and English she was still a lady and was to be treated with respect...and then she could only make out something about tongues.

"Thank you." Emma said, wishing for a nice warm bath to wash away the filthy guard's touch. Though he had only touched a small part of her, she felt entirely soiled.

"The prisoners are not the only ones who miss female company," Massaredo explained. He motioned for her to walk with him back to the stone archway that stood in front of the long corridor leading to the entrance of the building.

Emma clenched her teeth, ready to take her gratitude back.

"The behavior is inexcusable but understandable. I do not tolerate it and Javier will be justly punished if he behaves in that way again. In the future, I do not suggest you venture out on your own again. My men are good soldiers, but they are men first."

"Oh so I suppose should change my gender if I don't wish to stifle in the walls of your prison." She replied, annoyed. Then Emma's eyes widened as an idea came to her. "Or perhaps Archie could join me?"

Don Massaredo opened his mouth to protest but then closed it and seemed to be considering it.

"Please, he needs some fresh air and really how is he supposed to get better if he never gets any exercise?" Emma pressed watching him intently and hoping she could sway him. "He's in no condition to escape. I would just very much like the company of...well my husband, on my walks." _Forgive me_, _Horatio_, Emma thought.

"Hmm..." He crossed his arms over his chest and Emma bit her lip hopefully. The fact that he hadn't cut her off with a refusal was a very good sign. "Very well, I will allow this. But hear me well, Senora; cross me, attempt to escape and you shall both be punished, very severely."

Emma simply nodded vigorously and beamed, not even paying much mind to what ever else he was going on about. Archie would be able to come outside! He'd sit in the sun, walk with her, chat and exercise and he'd back to his old cheerful self in no time!

Emma tried not to skip back into the prison.

A.N:

ViperVixen33: I'd say Archie and Emma are safe for now. (laughs) Glad you're enjoying it so far!

Lady Rheena: Glad you enjoyed this so far! Hope you like this chapter. Poor Archie, he deserves some nookie.

Camreyn: Thankie for your lovely feedback. Yep, Archie and Emma are gonna do their best to help each other get over what happened. But you're right, Horry is never forgotten. (smiles) Hope you like this chapter!

Sweet A.K: Yep he kissed her! I liked Massaredo too except, yes, he made the Baby Crumpet cry and that is not nice! Yeah, but Shakespeare would definitely be Archie's first choice and it will lead to some nice steamy moments between these two. (winks) Conflict indeed! Oy vey. Hope you like this chapter!


	12. Chapter Twelve: Taming Of The Shrew

**Chapter Twelve**

"Archie, I have a surprise for you." Emma said, smiling exuberantly at him, trying not to focus on his mouth and how he had accidentally kissed her earlier that day.

He scowled at her from his near permanent position on his bed as he leafed through the book she had gotten for him. "What? You haven't been manhandled by me enough for one day?"

"Was that a joke, Archie? Are you joking?" She asked beaming hopefully. Emma stood on the side of the bed and took note of the empty plate on the floor. He was eating better and perhaps his sense of humor really was returning. Yes, indeed. Some fresh air was just what he needed to put him right as rain again.

"Saints preserve me, what is it now?" He asked looking up at her with a resigned and wary expression.

"We're going outside!" She burst, clenching her fists in her skirts and trying very hard not to jump up and down.

"I beg your pardon?" He asked, his forehead creasing in confusion.

"Don Massaredo said you could spend sometime outside in the sunshine, get some exercise."

"Did he now?" Archie cocked an eyebrow. "Strange, considering I've been here all this time and he's refused every time I've begged to be allowed out in the fresh air. This of course doesn't include the time he stuck me in that fucking hole for a good month. Now you come along, a pretty young thing and he's most acquiescent. How did you manage to convince him, I wonder?"

He narrowed his eyes at her and Emma's face fell, a sick disappointment churning in her belly. "Archie Kennedy! How dare you insin--" Then she stopped at the mix of pain and smugness in her friend's eyes. "Why must you do that?" Emma asked softly, her eyes burning. "Why do you keep trying to make me hate you?"

Archie lowered his eyes back to the book and let out a soft snort. "Because the alternative is unthinkable, darling Emma."

Emma grit her teeth and tried to ignore that cryptic remark and not ask him what in the blasted hell he was raving about. "Archie, we are going to go outside if I have to drag you from that bed by your hair all the way . You may be bigger than I am, but I believe my fury at you at this moment would provide me with the strength required for the task."

His mouth quirked upwards but he made no move to leave the bed.

Emma reached out and quickly grabbed the book from his hands.

Archie let out a grunt of protest and made to grab the book back but she rushed towards the window, sliding the book through the bars and holding on to one edge of the cover.

"Want it?"

"Emma, give that back to me right now." Archie ordered, angrily.

"I imagine if I were to drop it from here, you'd have to go outside to retrieve it." Emma smiled smugly at him. "So either way, Lieutenant, I'd get my way."

"You wouldn't--" He insisted, eyes glittering dangerously.

_Thud_

Emma crossed her now empty arms over her chest.

"I cannot believe you just did that." Archie narrowed his eyes at her.

With his hair down about his shoulders, framing his bearded face, he looked so dangerously close to a baby faced lion Emma felt her pulse skip with what she interpreted as fear. She swallowed and extended her hand. "Shall we, Mr Kennedy?"

Archie pulled the covers back and swore.

He moved very slowly down the stone corridor. Emma lifted her arm to tuck it through his and support him but Archie grasped her forearm firmly and pushed it back against her side.

"I think you enjoy being difficult, Archie." Emma scowled as she slowed her steps to match his.

"It's one of my few pleasures in life, Mrs Hornblower." He replied, his voice breathless and face pale from the exertion of working his too long under-used muscles.

"Archie, please." Emma looked around fearfully. "Kennedy." She corrected, lowering her voice.

"Ah yes, we are going to have to discuss what on earth possessed you to tell Massaredo you were my wife." Archie panted.

"Forgive me but I have an aversion to spending my time in a stinking cell alone, with the threat of being abused by strange men hanging over my head," she answered.

Archie stopped walking and stared at her.

"Don't you start!" Emma warned pointing her finger at him, knowing exactly what he was thinking.

He shook his head and started walking again. When they reached the doorway to the outside he hesitated. "I've come to hate this door. Even more than my cell. All the times I tried to escape and never got further than this door and the times I managed to get past the door, only to be dragged back." He took a shuddering breath and placed his palm against the thick dark wood.

Emma placed her hand on his back, feeling the jut of his bones, not as pronounced now but still too much for her liking. He was trembling. "You can go past it now, Archie. Every day for a little while, you can go past it." She assured him, her voice choked, her heart breaking for him.

"Thank you," he said so softly she barely heard him.

She pressed her lips against the back of his shirt; blinking back tears "You're welcome."

His breath caught when the sunlight filtered in the small opening with his first push against the door. The spread of sunlight got wider and wider until the door was opened and Archie was bathed in the light.

He closed his eyes and just stood there in the doorway for a moment, feeling the sun on his face. The wind had picked up slightly and chilled the air a bit but Archie didn't seem to mind in the least.

He took in deep gulping breaths and shuffled through the doorway outside. Spotting the book on the ground, he sent Emma a scathing glare and then rushed over to it as fast as his screaming limbs could carry him. He let out a hiss of pain when he tried to bend over to retrieve it. Emma ignored his insistence that he could do it himself and picked the book up. She wiped the dirt off the cover and spine and handed it to him.

"I apologize," she said expecting him to say the same.

Instead, Archie smacked her lightly on the head with the book. "I believe we shall start with Taming of The Shrew. We can take turns reading. I can read Petruchio and you shall read for Kate."

"Let me guess, the shrew?" Emma asked, not amused.

"The shrew." Archie confirmed with a grin.

A.N:

Camreyn: I always love your feedback! I hope you like this chapte.

Lady Rheena: Thankie for your feedback! Poor Emma is becoming a wee bit tempted by the Crumpet, but the heart wants what it wants and so far it's still about Horry. (laughs) Hope you like this chapter!


	13. Chapter Thirteen: Between The Lines

**Chapter Thirteen**

Emma took a seat next to Archie on the ground, the fullness of her skirt providing a soft enough cushion against the hard packed earth. He gave her small smile and opened the book on his knees.

"Now tell me what this one is about and why is this poor woman a shrew?" She asked sliding closer to him to be able to read the words.

"Well, it takes place Italy. It all starts because this young man, Lucentio wants to marry Bianca. But Bianca's father won't allow it until his oldest, Katherine is married off."

"No easy task I imagine considering she's a shrew," Emma remarked arching an eyebrow.

"Very hard to marry those off, I hear," Archie teased.

Emma poked him soundly in the stomach, making his grin widen. "Go on."

"A friend of one of Bianca's many suitors arrives in the city: Petruccio. Broke and in need of a rich wife."

"Oh!" Emma gasped in outrage. "That is terrible. So he only wants her for her fortune?"

"Well, she doesn't exactly have a sweet, wifely disposition to recommend her." Archie explained.

"Neither did I!" Emma reminded him tartly.

Reminded of Horatio, Archie's smile wavered slightly and Emma felt a strange guilty pang. They both turned their gazes away from each other and back to the book.

Silly, Emma insisted mentally. She'd been trying to make Archie smile for months and now that she'd gotten a brief glimpse of the teasing, easy mannered young man she had known, she felt as if she were somehow betraying Horatio by drawing Archie out. Absolutely ridiculous. Horatio would welcome her trying to bring the old Archie back. Bring his best friend back to happier times.

Archie turned to one of his favorite exchanges between Petruccio and Kate, one that he felt Emma would easily understand. "Good 'morrow, Kate; for that's your name, I hear."

Emma narrowed her eyes. "Oh lovely, Petruccio gets all the easy lines, does he?" Then she leaned over, nearly pressing her chin on his shoulder. "Well have you heard, but something hard of hearing. They call me Katharina that do talk of me." Emma smiled. "Well goodness, spitting hairs over her name. No wonder she has such a difficult reputation. Though that is a lovely name isn't it? Katherina. So much more exotic than just plain 'Emma'," she mused.

Archie glanced at her and then shook his head. "But Emma, the prettiest Emma in Christendom, my super-dainty Emma,"

"Stop," Emma laughed, her cheeks warming. "It doesn not say... It's Kate, you silly goose. Dainty. Ha!"

He went on to read the long paragraph and Emma found herself closing her eyes to listen to the soft timber of his voice as it flew over the pretty words. He sounded like music. She decided, feeling a slight throb begin in the pit of her stomach. Gone was the drawl of despair she had become so used to lately. His voice was alive, vibrant.

Emma felt him nudge her cheek with his shoulder. It was her turn to read.

"Moved, in good time; let him that moved you hither, remove you hence." Emma snorted. "She certainly isn't going out of her way to be pleasant to him, is she?"

"The course of true love never did run smooth," Archie reminded her, echoing her snort. "Thou hast hit it. Come, sit on me...uh..." Archie's cheeks flushed beet red and he pressed his lips together.

"Does it really say...? Oh," Emma licked her lips and gave him a mischievous smile. "This Shakespeare fellow certainly was a naughty one, wasn't he?" Then she burst out laughing when she read the next line. "Asses are made to bear and so are you," She shot back saucily.

Archie cocked an eyebrow. "Women are made to bear and so are--" Then his face paled as her smile wavered. "Oh damn, Emma. I'm sorry! Forgive me. I forgot that--" He squeezed his eyes shut, amazed at his own stupidity. She had told him a about the baby she had lost and as usual he had been so caught up in his own selfishness, it had completely slipped his mind.

"It's all right, Archie. Really. Oh please, don't," she pleaded when he shut the book and shook his head. "Please, we were having such a lovely time. I'm not gonna fall apart everytime someone mentions a baby or bearing children. Please. Can we continue?" She linked her arm around his and pressed her head back on his shoulder, hoping they would continue on their present light course. She did not want him to go back into his melancholy when she'd had a brief glimpse of his beautiful smile again.

Beautiful? Emma lifted her head with a start at the strange feeling the spread through her at that word in relation to Archie. She'd never thought of him that way but she would admit that normally Archie Kennedy was quite handsome. But beautiful? With his dirty clothes, scruffy beard and scraggly hair? Prison life was affecting her mental state, Emma decided.

"Now, let's continue. Where were we?" She pressed him to continue reading until his voice was flowing wonderfully again and laughing with her.

"Who knows not where a wasp does wear his sting? In his tail," Archie insisted.

"In his tongue," Emma countered.

"Whose tongue?"

"Yours, if you talk of tails and so farewell." Emma added a little dismissive wave that made Archie burst out laughing.

Again, that wonderful warm feeling spread through her, pooling in her stomach and throbbing pleasantly.

"What, with my tongue in your tail?" Archie asked mischievously, his cheek blushing furiously.

Emma blinked and opened her mouth, feeling her own answering blush. "My goodness," She squeezed her eyes shut and buried her face in his shoulder, not bothered at all by the smell now.

"Nay, come again, good Kate. I am a gentleman," Archie teased.

"Ooooh she hits him!" Emma burst proudly. "Serves him right, the rake!"

"I think that'll do for now, before I completely corrupt you." Archie insisted, closing the book. But he was smiling.

"That was fun and I understood all of it. But I think you did that on purpose. Picked an easy passage so I wouldn't be too lost."

"I know not of what you speak, milady," Archie insisted haughtily but his eyes were glittering and his lips curved in a small smile.

That night, Emma lay on the bed, next to Archie. She had suggested it would look less suspicious if they shared the same bed. He had resisted for months until she'd pleaded to lie next to him after a nightmare. He let her crawl in next to him and it became a habit. Too comfortable. Too warm. Too tempting. But Archie didn't ask her to move back to her own bed.

Now she lay on her side, staring at him as if she'd never seen him before. Archie felt his mouth go dry under her scrutiny and his body begin to betray him so he shifted carefully, moving the lower half of his body away from her so he didn't dare touch her.

"Thank you for today, Archie. I enjoyed it immensely." She whispered in the dark, the crown of her red hair almost silver with the shine of the moonlight through the bars of their cell.

"So did I," he admitted thickly.

"I'm glad," Emma said and he could see her sweetly white teeth as she smiled. She tilted her head slightly and kissed his forehead.

Archie inhaled her scent deeply, his body swelling at the feel of her lips on his skin and on his exhale he whispered, "So am I."

A.N: I've seen different sources name Kate from Taming Of The Shrew as both Katherine and Katherina. I decided to stick with Katherina cause it sounded more Italian and interesting.

Lady Rheena: I think the Crumpet pretty is starting to dawn on Emma. (laughs) Thankie for your feedback. I hope you like this chapter!

Camreyn: Thankie for your feedback! He's slowly starting to come around. I hope you enjoy this chapter too!.


	14. Chapter Fourteen: To Be Free

**Chapter Fourteen**

His color was returning and his eyes were slowly regaining their spark. Emma watched Archie as he took a seat on a flatbed of rock on the bank under the bridge. It was the only place on the island that offered any privacy at all and even then it was only private as long as ships weren't passing under the bridge and guards weren't patrolling the area above.

It was for that reason Emma enjoyed coming here the most. The guards usually stuck to either end of the bridge and if anyone had any delusions of escape, they'd be seen as soon as they passed under the bridge out to the water.

"I don't think he's coming for me," she said with a shudder and a heavy feeling of dread as she looked out to the horizon.

Archie looked up at her, holding the volume of Shakespeare open on his knees.

"He thinks I'm dead, most certainly. He won't be coming."

"Emma..." Archie's voice trailed off. A note of warning and resignation in his tone.

"It's up to us, Archie. Nobody is coming for us!"

"Keep your voice down," He insisted glancing towards the bridge above them with a grimace.

"Don't you wanna go back? Get away from this place? Back with our friends?" Emma whispered, standing over him.

He opened his mouth and then closed it, looking away from her. She stepped to the side, back into his line of sight. He glared up at her impatiently. "Shall I tell you again what they did to me the first five times I tried to escape?"

This time it was she who looked away, her heart heavy with sympathy for him. "I just want to go home Archie. I want to see Horatio again. The yearning for it comes over me so sharply I can't breathe and I feel like I will surely die if I don't lay eyes on him right then." Her eyes glistened with tears and Archie closed his eyes, sighing.

"I miss them all as well. But nothing can be done, Emma. Nothing. We must simply wait until the war is over and we are released."

"Archie, I feel I shall lose my mind if I don't get away from here. What about back in England? Don't you miss your family? Is there a sweetheart who is mourning you? Wouldn't you like to see her again? See the joy on her face when you knock on her door and she opens it?"

"Emma, dammit, stop this! Stop this now!" He shot to his feet and grabbed her roughly.

Her breath caught and for a brief moment she was back in the cell, with Archie behind her, thinking she was Jack. Her fear must have shown on her face because he abruptly released her. "Forgive me," he sighed, licking his lips. "But Emma...if they caught us, I couldn't bear it if they...punished you." He picked up the book off the ground and wiped the cover. "I beg you. Just leave things as they are for now. Please," he pleaded, his voice shaking.

Emma touched his arm lightly. He was afraid for her. Warmth spread across her chest, making her heart swell and she nodded slowly. "All right." She took a seat and patted the space beside her.

Archie sat next to her and opened the book again. She leaned her head on his shoulder and listened to him read. His voice lulling her until the music of his words got fainter and then disappeared altogether.

She was asleep; Archie realized when her head dipped slightly on his shoulder. He didn't dare move yet, just enjoyed the soft weight of her head against him. She wanted to go back to her husband. Of course she did, Archie thought with a burning envy that stole his breath. He too missed Horatio and everyone back on the Indy, but the very thought of returning chilled him.

Jack Simpson was dead. Emma had told him that. She had told him that she had shot him dead though had no real recollection of doing so. Archie's mouth quirked in a small smile. Brave, little Emma, who nobody had wanted on the Indefatigable had proven herself most useful by ridding them of that evil bastard. He dared to run a finger along a curl of red hair that had fallen over her brow. Beautiful, brave little Emma who belonged to his best friend.

Emma. Who he loved with every damned inch of his black soul.

Archie had stopped believing in God a very long time ago. But he'd begun to believe in God again.

To believe that God was amusing himself with one Archie Kennedy.

How else to explain this insanity that made him dread going back? To relive every moment of his shame and terror, of fearing the return of the nightmares, to fear that Horatio would take one look at his face and know that he'd been betrayed by his friend in heart if not in body. Archie shook his head.

He had hidden his attraction to Emma for so long on the Indy. Here he had no need to hide, except from Emma herself and even then, he sometimes wondered if she knew. Others could see the adoration on his face and think it belonged there because they believed he was her husband. He could never speak the words aloud to her, of course. Not after what he'd done to her. Archie's stomach churned with self-disgust. God had been right to give this beautiful creature to a good, honorable man like Horatio. Archie would simply taint her with the blackness that lived inside of him, the blackness she had caught a glimpse of.

And didn't hate him for it.

Archie felt his eyes burn with the force of the emotion that knowledge provoked in him. He had abused her in the cruelest way. She responded by bring him back to life. He would have willingly wasted away and welcomed death when it came. But Emma fought for him. The look he had feared would be in her eyes when she learned what Jack had done to him had never materialized.

She'd looked at him with sympathy then but not horror.

It made him love her all the more.

Emma's promise to leave things as they were, lasted a mere 24 hours. The next day, a supply ship arrived and she studied it closely. The idea that this was her and Archie's chance niggled into her mind and took hold. She had to try. Had to. Surely they could somehow sneak aboard and hide without being seen for as long as it took to get out on the open water. Once they were discovered...well, Emma decided they could deal with that problem when it arrived.

She took one last look at the patient she was looking after, a man with a dangerously high fever. A sharp pang of guilt stabbed her chest. What would happen to him if she left? How long would it be before Massaredo found another doctor?

Her conscience rebelled against leaving those in her care but...Horatio. That one named quieted the voices in her head. He was out there, grieving for her and her duty as his wife had to come first. Her love for him had to come first.

Emma closed the door to the prisoner's room and made her way down the hall to warn Archie. He was still somewhat weak from his ordeal but she trusted he could move quickly if their freedom was within their grasp. Adrenaline pounded through her veins with every step. She gave a frightened gasp when she spotted the irksome guard who she now knew was indeed named Javier sitting in front of one of the rooms. Her heart slowly regained its normal beat when she noticed that he was asleep in his chair. Slowly, she made her way past him. His room would be unoccupied for a few moments at least, she hoped. Long enough to grab to guard uniforms and get back to her cell.

She spotted the only extra uniform in the thankfully unlocked (stupid, lazy man, Emma thought smugly) room but there was an extra shirt and trousers lying about so Emma grabbed those as well.

Their hair, however would be a problem. She and Archie were the only two red heads in the prison. She searched fervently for hats. She nearly let out a squeak of pleasure when she spotted one under the bed. A second one, however, was nowhere to be found.

"Dammit," Emma whispered. Maybe she could find one in another guards room. She tucked the clothes and hat under her skirts, certain she could make the quick trip back to their cell before anyone noticed what she had gathered in her skirts.

A thick, slurred voice behind her froze her blood. Before she could turn, Javier's thick, smelly body crushed her against his wooden wardrobe.

A.N: Hope ya'll enjoy this chapter!


	15. Chapter Fifteen: A Fine Mess

**Chapter 15**

Emma squeezed her eyes shut and opened her mouth to scream. Javier's thick, clammy hand covered her mouth and he hissed that if she didn't want him to inform Don Massaredo of her attempt at escape, she'd keep silent. He joked that she'd even enjoy herself while his free hand drifted to her breast.

Panic and loathing surged inside of her and Emma couldn't stop the adrenaline burst that made her fight out his grasp.

She took a deep breath and bit down hard on the fleshy part of his palm. While he howled and jerked back, Emma shoved at him and made for the door. Her cursed skirts impeded her and Javier's rage made him faster. He easily grabbed her again.

Emma's mind flashed to her chest being pressed into the stone cold floor back in Archie's cell. Her eyes burned with tears of frustration. This could not happen to her again! She had survived the first time and forgiven Archie because it had been him. Her friend, driven by madness as he was, but still Archie. Emma feared if Javier took her in the same way, she would not be able to look Archie and separate the two incidents in her mind, she needed him so, needed Archie to be the one good thing she had in this hell to hold on to.

Javier swore at her and then backhanded her sharply. She felt a metallic burst of fluid fill her mouth and the agonizing sting of a split lip as the room spun and she landed on the coarse blanket on the bed. Her cheek felt as if it were on fire and she distantly imagined the skin stretching and swelling. Discoloring from the burst blood vessels.

When Javier's hands lifted her skirts, Emma's mind superimposed Archie thrusting into her violently and her instinct for survival made her start to scream, uncaring of whether Massaredo himself came to save her.

She kept screaming and twisting her body beneath him, clamping her thighs closed to stop him achieving his objective.

Javier's fingers dug painfully into her thighs, pulling them apart and Emma feared he would easily break her bones.

Emma brought her head up sharply against Javier's nose and he arched backwards as blood spilled through his fingers.

She had seconds. Emma quickly scrambled off the bed, but her legs again became tangled and she ironically fell off the bed, onto a cursing Javier.

He grabbed a handful of her hair and twisted her onto her stomach.

Oh God. Not again! Emma pleaded silently, her body freezing for an instant.

"You fucking bastard!" A familiar voice screamed. Emma's panicked senses couldn't identify the speaker.

A sudden gurgling noise came from behind her and then the sensation of something warm and sticky against her back. Emma, thinking Javier had released himself prematurely against her, couldn't choke back the vomit that spit from her mouth. Javier's weight lifted from her and Emma saw the drips of blood on the floor beside her. They didn't register until she crawled to the side and came up against the wardrobe.

Archie stood over Javier, kicking the guard's jerking body, a bloody knife clutched in his hand. His shoe slammed into Javier's gut repeatedly, causing the blood spewing from Javier's neck to splatter. "I'll kill you! I'll fucking kill you for touching her!"

Emma distantly thought that Archie already had accomplished that, but she was shaking too badly for her mouth to form the words. She covered her arms over her head, trying to block out the sight of Javier's death throes and the mess of blood covering most of the room.

After another minute, there was silence. The sound of distant quick footsteps could be heard and then hands grabbed at her. She feared that Javier wasn't really dead and was going to drag her back to him and finish his violation. Emma screamed again, high-pitched shrieks as she smacked, scratched and punched.

"Emma! Stop! Stop! It's me!" Archie's blue eyes registered through his blood smeared face.

Emma went still and stared at him.

"Are you all right?" He asked, his eyes roaming over her, fearfully.

Emma blinked. What a bloody stupid question. Of course she wasn't all right! She was certain she was about to turn her stomach again. She swallowed hard. He'd saved her. Archie had saved her from Javier. The thought spread through her body soothing her. She threw herself at Archie and buried her face in his chest as she held on with all her might willing his arms to shut out this entire horrific day.

"Don't let go. Please don't let go." She pleaded brokenly into his shirt as tears began to roll down her face.

"Never," he promised stroking her hair, his grip tightening.

Then Archie was jerked away from her and Emma let out another scream of panic until she saw that two guards had lifted Archie to his feet and Don Massaredo stood beside them. One of the guards pulled the knife from Archie's hand and handed it to the warden.

"What happened here?" Massaredo demanded.

"I should think that was blatantly obvious, Senor." Emma remarked, her head swimming. She got on her hands and knees when she felt her stomach lurch again and threw up a second time. She could not stop shaking and now her hands were smeared with blood.

"That sick bastard attacked her!" Archie hissed.

"Ah. I see." Massaredo's jaw tightened as he glared down at Javier's body. Then he stiffened and turned his attention back to Archie. "While I do not condone Javier's action. You, a prisoner, have killed one of my men. You will be held in the hole for tonight and then executed at dawn. Bring him." Massaredo ordered.

Emma looked up in horror. Executed? "What?"

Archie closed his eyes but Emma could swear she saw him shudder.

"Wait? What? No!" Emma cried struggling to her feet. "That monster attacked me. Archie saved my life. How could you punish a man for..for protecting his wife?"

Massaredo glared at her impatiently as he gripped her upper arm and helped her to her feet.

"A guard was killed. Your husband will be punished for that. The punishment is death."

Emma's heart dropped into her stomach. She would not survive here without Archie. He saved her. She could not let this good man die because of her. He meant too much to her. Archie was the only reason Emma hadn't ended her life thus far. Alone, she had no hope of escape, Horatio believed she was dead; her baby was nothing more than a memory. Without Archie, what on earth did she have left? He was her hope. Archie had become her entire world, Emma realized with a start.

"Then you put me in that hole with him and I swear to you, if you kill him, you will find me hanging in our cell when you are done." Emma vowed.

"Emma!" Archie cried.

Massaredo narrowed his eyes at her. "You think to threaten me?"

"You cannot kill a good man for doing away with that evil creature. If you do, then I shall die with him and then where will you be? I imagine it will be a while before you manage to capture another doctor. You still have severely wounded men."

"What of your oath?"

Emma wavered. Could she leave those men to die when she knew she could help them? Weighing their lives against Archie's, she knew there was no contest.

"It means nothing compared to his life." Emma replied resolutely.

Archie gave a soft whimper as his breath caught. Her eyes met his and she gave him a small nod. Courage, my friend. Her eyes glistened. So did his.

"I admire your commitment to your husband. You are a good wife." Massaredo said. His shoulders sagged slightly. He turned back to Archie. "For you, 30 days in the hole."

Archie's eyes widened and he shook his head frantically. "Anything else. Not that. Please."

Massaredo stepped towards him, his fists clenched. "The two of you try my patience!" He yelled.

"I shall go mad again if I'm dropped back in there! Anything but that."

The furious warden grabbed Archie and began dragging him out of the room. "Forty lashes. Right now."

A.N:

Sarita04: Thankie for your feedback! Hope you like this chapter.

Sweet A.K: Your feedback is always worth the wait! Archie definitely is not all sweetness and light. Sometimes he's a very bad boy. Grr, college is evil. (imagines Jamie as a priest) Oh. (shivers) Hope you like this chapter!

Camreyn: Thankie for your feedback! I guess this answers your question, huh? (smiles) Hope you like this chapter.

Lady Rheena: Your feedback always makes me giggle! Emma's definitely the more impulsive of the two. She wants to go, go go while Archie has experience on his side. Hope you like this chapter!


	16. Chapter Sixteen: Punishment

**Chapter Sixteen**

"No, wait! Please," Emma begged as they dragged Archie down the stone corridor. "It was my fault. Please. I was going to-"

"Emma, be quiet!" Archie snapped, turning his head.

"But-" she moaned helplessly.

"Don't," he ordered curtly.

He wouldn't let her save him, she thought, tears filling her eyes. Perhaps because he knew it would make no difference. But still, she wished she could somehow make amends for the sheer selfish stupidity of her action. Now Archie would pay the price. Guilt dogged her every step as she followed Archie and the Don's guards.

It looked like it was going to rain. _Please, no. Not on top of everything else, _Emma pleaded. Her face throbbed from where Javier had struck her but she chastised herself mentally. The small bit of pain was no more than what she deserved for what was about to happen to this wonderful man.

The guard on the left, a dark skinned, deceptively thin man ripped Archie's shirt down to his waist as Don Massaredo wrapped the whip around his fist.

Emma felt a flicker of…something…deep in her stomach as her eyes moved over the golden skin of Archie's back. His compact body seemed tighter and more muscled out in the open air. She wondered what it would be like to touch him. She'd helped nurse him when he was near death and delirious, but his body had been wasting away then. As he recovered, he modestly kept himself covered in her presence. Now, seeing Archie healthy and strong, something feminine leapt to life inside of her. The lustful observation sickened her. She was married to another man. She was responsible for the whipping Archie was about to receive. She wanted nothing more than to be reunited with the man she loved. Horatio. Her husband. How could she dare think of Archie in such a base, indecent manner? Especially after what had already…happened between them. She could not possibly want to- _Emma Hornblower you should be ashamed of yourself_! But he was such a gentle soul, surely it would be different than that brutal punishment he had inflicted on her. She squeezed her eyes shut, the violence of Javier's death reminding her that there was another side to Archie. Something dark and brutal. Emma shook her head, it was all a moot point because nothing would ever, ever happen between them.

The first crack of the lash jolted her from her selfish thoughts. Archie grunted, trying not to cry out and Emma stared at the ground, unable to bear watching his pain, knowing she was the cause.

_Please, please stop this. I can't bear to see him suffer so. Let me take his place somehow._ The tears rolled down her cheeks as Archie lost his ability to remain silent, crying out when the pain became unbearable. How many more?

Then it occurred to her. She would force herself to watch his pain. Watch what she caused. It would be paltry compared to what Archie was enduring but maybe if she raised her head and made herself watch, she could make amends somehow.

What she saw made her knees buckle. The guard behind her gripped Emma's arms, holding her steady. Archie's back was a shredded curtain of bloodied raw flesh. He was hanging limply, no longer able to hold himself upright. The blood and sweat was mixed into his hair. _You did this to him. You did this and you will watch._ Emma used all her willpower to keep her head up.

When Massaredo finally stopped, sweat was pouring down his face and he was breathing heavily but with satisfaction. Ordering Archie taken off the pillar, he leaned in and said, "Next time, I will not be so kind."

Archie did not reply, he was shaking too badly. When the guard finally undid the bindings around his wrists, Archie crumpled to the ground and cried out when his back met the hard packed earth.

Emma seethed with rage. They couldn't have held him up? He grunted with the effort but somehow managed to get himself back on his feet. Emma pulled against the guard's grip, wanting to rush forward and help Archie.

"Get your filthy hands off me!"

Only at Massaredo's nod did the guard relinquish his grip. Emma ran towards Archie wanting to wrap her arms around him but not daring to risk causing him more pain.

"Oh Archie," she whimpered, ashamed of her own tearful weakness in the face of his obvious agony. "Forgive me, please."

"Get me back to our room," he grunted.

She didn't know where to touch him. He sucked in his breath and wrapped an arm around her. As they walked, it was obvious Archie wasn't giving her all his weight. _Still sparing her._ "Dammit, Kennedy," Emma sniffled, her tears mixing down into the collar of her gown.

They maneuvered clumsily back into their cell and she was careful to lay him on his stomach.

"God, you're a wretched mess," Emma said in horrified awe.

"You're a lovely little charmer, aren't you?" Archie joked, his voice muffled into the pillow.

"Please don't make jokes. This is no laughing matter. This was all my fault. If I had never come up with the plan to escape-"

"I do not regret killing Javier. The man was a filthy, degenerate monster. Perhaps this was the penance God chose for me in exchange for my lack of remorse."

"Don't speak to me of God. No just God could possibly have turned a blind eye to what happened to you. I'm the one who should have been punished. Not you, Archie."

Emma reached under the bunk for her medicine bag. She sucked in her breath, pulling out the bottle of alcohol. Though it was diluted with water to make it last longer, she still did not relish the additional pain she was about to cause him.

"Ah well, it wouldn't be the first time. Lord knows with Simpson-" He cut himself off abruptly.

"What do you mean?" Emma asked, a sick feeling of dread making her skin crawl.

"Nothing."

"Oh," Emma said, realization making her stomach lurch. "Oh no. Simpson would hurt you because of me?"

Archie was silent.

"Archie, he…He hurt you…indecently. Didn't he?"

Her friend froze and she could see his eyes were squeezed shut.

"When you, when you were out of your head and, hurt me. You thought I was him-"

"Emma please," he whispered hoarsely.

"You wanted to hurt him the way he had hurt you." Her voice shook as she gave voice to her suspicions.

"I don't want to talk about-"

"Oh, Archie," she whispered brokenly. She leaned down and kissed the back of his head. "My sweet, gentle man. What atrocities have you endured because of me?"

"Emma. Please stop crying. Your tears are burning my fucking back."


	17. Chapter Seventeen: Heal Thy Self

Chapter Seventeen

Emma wiped her cheeks and sucked in her breath as she dampened a cloth with the alcohol. "Archie, I have to clean the wounds…this is going to be painful."

He gave a bitter snort. "Seems to be my lot today, no more than I deserve."

"You have to stop doing that." Emma clenched her eyes shut in anticipation of the pain she was about to cause him. Perhaps talking would help to distract him. "What happened to you was not your fault." She dabbed gingerly, watching him seize up and bury his forehead into the pillow.

"Bleedin' fucking, Jesus Christ!"

Emma turned a blind eye to the cursing; figuring he certainly should be allowed to loosen his grip on propriety in the throes of what she knew was terrible pain. "Besides, I already told you, I have forgiven you for that."

"What I did to you was unforgivable. It makes me no better than Simpson," he panted, his voice thick with self-loathing.

Emma threw the rag on the floor and tried to not throw the bottle down with it. She set it down with restrained delicacy instead. She slid off the bed and kneeled so she was face to face with Archie. Grabbing his jaw, she pressed her fingers into the soft bristles. "You listen to me, Mr. Kennedy. As you continuously point out, the injury was done to me. Me! Therefore, I am the only one who can decide on this matter of forgiveness. You will not take that choice away from me. You are nothing, nothing like that monster. He preyed on you and God knows how many others. He forced his perversions on you and abused you not only physically, but mentally. But everything he did, he did intentionally. He knew exactly what he was doing, may he rot in hell. If you want to hate someone hate Jack Simpson. He is the only one to blame. What happened between us was ugly, and brutal and your constant wallowing in it does not make it easier for me, but it does not compare with what he did. You do not compare yourself to Jack Simpson!"

Archie opened his mouth to obviously protest but Emma's shout stopped him.

"No! You will be silent and listen to me!" Emma cried, feeling fresh tears burn her eyes. "Jack Simpson was nothing like you. He was not fit to shine your shoes. He was evil. But if you want to make yourself a martyr, very well, it seems my opinion doesn't matter one blasted bit. You want to lump yourself in with that aberration, fine, but don't expect me to join you because you are one of the best, most wonderful men I know. Damn you! You want to punish yourself? Fine. Wash your own bloody wounds!" Before she gave in to the urge to cause him further personal injury she stomped towards the door and knocked. "I want to go outside!"

"Outside is raining, Senora," the guard called out from the bench closest to the right archway.

"Bloody hell," she burst in frustration when she looked through the bars above Archie's bed and saw that the guard was right. "Fine, then I wish to check up on a few of the recovering prisoners."

The guard opened the door and she tossed a last scowling glance at Archie who refused to face her, before grabbing her medicine bag and storming out.

She threw herself into helping the prisoners under her care for the next few hours.

Emma wanted to forget how Archie had hurt her, but every time she felt like she was beginning to put the horrifying episode behind her, Archie's guilt and his refusal to relinquish it, brought it all back. She had been telling the truth, she didn't blame him at all for what had happened between them, but there was still a part of her that couldn't forget. She feared if he couldn't accept her forgiveness for what he'd done, this horrible thing would hang over them for the rest of their lives. And then Horatio would know.

The sudden realization for the real basis for her anger chilled her. If they did manage to make it back to Horatio and the Indy with this terrible memory between them, he would want to know what had happened. Emma would not be able to keep this from her husband. Would he be able to forgive Archie? Oh God, they were like brothers and Horatio had been devastated when he thought Archie had died.

Would he look at her differently? Somehow blame her? Emma knew of husbands who had their wives put away when something so shameful happened.

Emma shivered. It would do no good to worry about this now. Archie would get past his guilt. There was just no other option.

She was helping one of the men walk around his cell when Emma heard a commotion outside the room.

Two guards were carrying a prisoner through the corridor. He was drenched to the bone and shivering. One of the guards, Eduardo, explained that prisoner had been trying to escape when he'd collapsed outside.

Emma's stomach clenched nervously as she felt the man's feverish skin. "He's sick. Quickly, get these clothes off and we must get him under the blankets. He'll need more of them and I need boiling water. Hurry!" The other guard, Raul, started pulling the man's shirt off of him while Emma pulled his shoes off.

"Am I going to die?" the prisoner asked in desperate, panting Spanish. He gripped her wrist tight, his brown eyes pleading with her.

"I will do all I can to help you," she promised, fearing that it wouldn't be enough.

Massaredo explained that they had received a new shipment of food a few days ago. Emma hoped that that was all it was, a case of food poisoning. But the man's fever taunted her with the possibility that it was something much more dire.

She ordered that the man be kept in bed and only the most necessary people stay in the room with him. That meant only her for the moment. She asked Massaredo to explain to Archie that she would be spending the night taking care of the prisoner.

There was no way to check for sure but Massaredo asked her if it was possible the food had been contaminated.

"Dear God, I hope you're wrong, Sir. But I'll be treating him with that in mind. It's best to eliminate all possibilities."

The prisoner died the next morning.

Emma tried to push the knowledge that she had eaten the same food last night to the back of her mind as she checked the other prisoners but a cold fear began to set in. Her cold panic turned into shivering, a painful ache in her limbs and fever.

She entered Archie's cell, trying to maintain a cold politeness as she was still furious at him and was examining him when she collapsed.


	18. Chapter Eighteen: Love's Healing Hands

Chapter Eighteen

Archie struggled to catch Emma when her legs buckled and she sprawled across him on the bed, unconscious. "Emma! Dear God. Emma!" he shouted, shaking her. Icy fear shot through his veins when he turned her on her back and saw how pale and clammy her skin was. "Massaredo!" Archie screamed, struggling out from underneath her to place her comfortably on the bed. Ignoring the screaming agony of his back he crawled towards his cell door and pounded furiously.

The guards burst in, guns drawn, not knowing what the commotion was about. Archie explained in desperate halting Spanish that Emma had fallen ill.

Massaredo cursed when he saw that Archie was correct. "We will put her in a separate room and hope the illness passes. We have no one to take care of her."

"I will take care of her," Archie declared firmly.

At Massaredo's skeptical look he clenched his jaw defiantly. The Don's eyes glittered, as if he was about to argue that Archie could barely stand since he was still recovering from the flogging.

"I will do it. She...she is my wife. I should be the one to help her." The lie spilled easily from Archie's lips because of the love behind the words.

"She is sick because a prisoner was ill. Perhaps you will catch it too?" Massaredo warned as Archie went back to Emma and began pulling off her shoes.

"I don't care. I owe her my life. Nobody else is going to touch her," He moved a few strands of her hair back from her forehead and pressed a kiss to the fevered skin. He would nurse her back to health if it was the last thing he did on this earth.

She had done so much for him, fought Archie himself and never gave up. He prayed God would grant him an ounce of her courage.

Emma alternately shivered and sweated through the night. He lay next to her, holding her when she was cold and wiping her with cool cloths when she was so hot she couldn't bear to have anything on her, including her clothes.

She burned for days, barely regaining consciousness and even then for only the few seconds he could manage to get some broth into her. It became increasingly apparent to him that cool compresses only on her forehead simply weren't accomplishing enough.

Still Archie hesitated; knowing how mortified Emma would be if he stripped her clothes off her. Dear God, how many more ways could he possibly violate this woman?

Sometimes he had brief flashes of being ill and he remembered how she had cared for him. He shuddered, recalling being dropped into ice cold bath water.

Emma had healed him, did what she had to. She must have seen him naked, touched him. Archie was almost glad Emma wasn't awake to see his reaction to that knowledge. He was alternately embarrassed and aroused, knowing she had had her hands on him when he had not a stitch of clothing on. But Emma was a professional, student or not, she was schooled in detachment.

Archie could never describe his feelings towards her as detached. Was he going to let modesty stand in the way of helping her now? Emma would understand, Archie hoped.

He just wouldn't look at her _that way_. He would push aside all lustful yearnings and concentrate on the physicality of what he needed to do. Clothes off. Then cool water compresses until her fever broke. Archie only prayed her fever broke before he had to immerse her in ice water. He didn't know if he had the courage to do that to this woman he loved so dearly, to hold her down in frigid water while she screamed.

He was about to silently ask Horatio for forgiveness as well when he gave a bitter snort, realizing the absurdity of that. Of all the things he needed his best friend's absolution for, what was one more thing?

Archie tried to keep his eyes focused on the buttons of her blouse as he undid them. But his fingers were brushing the warm softness of her skin, tantalizing him with tiny revealing glimpses of her chest and stomach. He bit back a groan when he pulled the two sides of her top open. God, he was going to burn in hell for this on top of everything else. He took a deep breath and gathered his courage not to look and opened her blouse.

Archie had always been the more impulsive and undisciplined one compared to Horatio. Now was no exception. He couldn't not look at her, the top half of her bared so beautifully to him.

Lieutenant Kennedy would have made a terrible doctor.

His fingers itched to touch her breasts, to feel the weight of them in his hands and run his fingers across the rosy nipples. He wondered what sounds she'd make. He was ridiculously aroused which was quite a feat considering the pain of his back and the self- loathing inside of him.

He looked at the bucket of ice water next to him and with a groan of despair Archie dunked his head inside, hoping to diffuse his throbbing lust. The shock of the water seemed to work and blinking away the droplets from his eyes, Archie ran his fingers through damp hair and set to work while he could.

He was rather proud of himself for lasting all of thirty seconds. He barely kept a grip on himself when he pulled her skirt down, forcing himself to keep her knickers on. He didn't think he could handle seeing her completely naked. She started moaning when the cold water hit her skin, arching slightly off the bed.

Archie didn't have to worry about going to hell. He was convinced he was already there. Hearing her making almost sexual sounds, Archie was swollen and throbbing again in record time.

"God, Emma. Please stop. You're going to be the death of me, love," Archie sighed leaning down and nuzzling the side of her face. "You have to be all right, Emma. You have to get better." Then, safe in the knowledge that she was out of her mind with fever, Archie added, "Come back to me, Emma. I love you so very much. You must get better."

"Mmm, love you too, Horatio," she sighed.

Archie jerked back as if she'd reached up and slapped him across the face. What the hell was he thinking? Here he was fantasizing about her, knowing he had no business doing so and she was dreaming of his best friend, her husband.

Emma threw her arms around Horatio with a cry of delight. "You're here! You're really, truly here!" She rained kisses on his face. She looked around her in confusion. She couldn't make out where she was, but it didn't look like she was in the prison anymore. Where was Archie?

"It's all right, my darling. You're safe now." Mists of fog surrounded Horatio and white light filled his space.

"Where are we? Is this…are we?" Emma asked, suddenly frightened.

"It's only a dream. You have nothing to fear. " His brown eyes held hers and his hand cupped her cheeks, lovingly.

"Are you dead, Horatio?" Emma pressed, hugging him tight to her again. Then she'd stay here with him. She would die and stay where her beloved was.

"_Come back to me, Emma. I love you so very much."_ Archie's voice filled her heart and Emma felt a pang of unease.

"You must choose Emma. Stay here with me or go back and live your life with him,"

"Don't, please. Don't send me away. I love you. I can't leave you. I'll stay here with you."

"Then you will die and leave Archie behind?" Horatio's arms tightened around her as if he wanted her to do just that.

"I can't," Emma shook her head, tears filling her eyes. "I can't leave him there alone but if I go to him, I'll have to leave you."

"We will be together again, my beautiful Emma." Horatio captured her mouth with his and Emma felt as if her heart was breaking, but then she heard Archie's words again, _I love you_. He loved her and he was still alive. She had fought for him to live. If she died, what would happen to him?

"He needs me," Emma sniffled. "He loves me."

"Then go to him. Go and I will wait for you." Horatio kissed her briefly once more and then was gone.

When Emma opened her eyes again, she was pressed against an instantly recognizable warm body. Archie smelled of damp coolness, sweat and the earth. She pulled back from his chest and tried to smile at him but her body ached all over. He looked exhausted and she wondered how long she had been ill.

"I came back." Emma whispered facing him as they lay on their sides. His arm was tight around her waist as if to anchor her there; afraid if he wasn't touching her she'd float away and leave him.

"Aye, and where did you go?" he asked with the first crack of a smile she'd seen in so long.

"I went to him. But I came back to you."

Archie stared at her for a very long time. Afraid to speak. Afraid to hope.

He didn't dare ask why.

Emma saw the uncertainty there in his eyes, the question. She reached up and touched her weak warm hand to his cheek. "I heard you," she said softly and he didn't have to ask what she meant, "so I came back." She tilted her head up and brushed her lips across his in the barest hint of a kiss.


	19. Chapter Nineteen: Your Heart For My Own

Chapter Nineteen

"Well met, honest gentleman.

By my troth, well met. Come sit, sit and a song.

We are for you: sit in the middle.

Shall we clap-"

"Why did you join the navy Archie?" Emma asked, lying on her side with her eyes closed as she listened to the soft timbre of his voice.

Archie looked up from the book. He thought she was falling asleep. "Why do you ask?"

"It hasn't treated you very kindly. I just wondered if perhaps you'd joined willingly or been pressed into service. Have you ever dreamed of something else?" She continued with her eyes still closed.

He smiled. _Your heart for my own, _he answered to himself. She still needed her rest but her fever had broken and she was eating regularly, a new shipment of food having arrived yesterday.

"Well, I'm the youngest of four brothers. There wasn't much else for the insignificant runt of an earl to do but join the service," he said.

"And what are your so-called 'significant' brothers doing?"

"Well, Teddy is the oldest, so he's being groomed as the heir to my father's earldom. Lawrence is a lawyer. Ralph is starting his own shipping line. I helped him build a few ships as a lad during the summers. I enjoyed that. Then when my father suggested the navy, I thought it would be good fun since I enjoyed being around ships anyway. Being an officer, having great adventures at sea and fending off the evil French. It all sounded so exciting to a lad of fourteen." Archie gave a snort of disgust.

"I met Lawrence and your sister Caroline when Horatio and I informed them of your passing."

"Ralph was at sea, no doubt and count yourself fortunate for not having met Teddy. He's a pompous bastard." Archie gave a short laugh. "Caroline is the light of our family. She's the only one any of us likes with the exception of Mum."

"She adored you…er, adores you too. They're going to be so happy when we get you back home." Emma bit her lip and opened her eyes. "If we ever get out of here."

"When," Archie promised.

Emma smiled at him in surprise. "Mr. Kennedy, is that optimism I hear in your voice?"

He gave a shy smile. "It's a bit easier to believe in miracles lately."

Emma blushed and closed her eyes again. They hadn't discussed his declaration. She didn't want to embarrass him and she also wasn't quite sure what his admission meant for them. She wanted to feel uncomfortable with him, knowing how Archie felt about her. But instead she fought the urge to grab him tight and lose herself in that lovely feeling until she felt the same. The only time she uneasiness pricked at her was when she remembered Horatio.

What did it mean that she was discovering these new feelings for Archie when Horatio still owned her heart?

What had her dream meant? Had something happened to Horatio? Is that why he hadn't found her yet. Emma buried her face in the pillow, brushing against Archie's hip as she tried to push that thought away. She hoped her dream hadn't been a premonition. She needed that hope that Horatio was still out there and that someday they would be rescued.

But what if he wasn't?

Emma whimpered and Archie stroked her hair. "What is it?"

"Read to me some more." Emma pleaded.

His voice lulled her again and after a while, she was able to push her fears aside.

But they followed her into her dreams. She woke up sobbing, Archie's arms tight around her, soothing her until she fell back asleep.

When she opened her eyes again, he was sitting up staring down at her.

Emma blinked, her eyes slowly making out his face as the moonlight filtered through the bars. "Why are you awake?"

"I'm a selfish bastard," he whispered hoarsely.

"Goodness, why?" Emma asked, shaking her head.

"I begged you to live, for me; to come back here to this god-forsaken place. You could have gone and been at peace but I wanted you here with me. What if Horatio really is dead?"

"Don't say that!" Emma begged, her heart squeezing.

You should have given up and stayed with him instead of coming back to a weakling like me."

"Archie stop it! We have moved past this, haven't we?" Emma struggled up to a sitting position.

"Why on earth did you come back to me? Why me? A killer, a monster-"

"You are not a…you've only killed in service to your country."

"And Javier?" Archie spat. "I stabbed him from the back, like a coward."

"You saved me from him," Emma touched his arm but he pulled back from her grasp.

"That's the point, Emma. For you, I would willingly do it again. I would walk through hell for you. I have and would gladly do it again."

Emma blinked and pulled back a little. "I…don't know what to say." A niggling thought struck her and she felt a cold tight dread in the pit of her stomach. "What do you mean?"

He hesitated and she saw that he regretted the turn their conversation had taken. "Archie." she pressed.

"Simpson." Archie explained, the name would never lose its bitterness in his mouth but the fear was gone for the first time in over ten years, because of her. "He made me…He said, he'd hurt you. Use you. I couldn't bear to have him touch you and so I...I let him..." he closed his eyes against the waves of self loathing that had been his companion for as many years.

Emma felt tears burn in her eyes at his words and she looked up at him. This man had endured so much and he had even spared her Simpson's violence, sacrificing himself. Her heart swelled with an emotion that was so close to what she felt for Horatio, it shocked her. Was it only natural that she would grow to love Archie by sheer nature of their proximity? She moved onto her knees and kissed him, testing herself. Electricity shivered through her body. He'd kissed her in gratitude when she'd given him the book of Shakespeare but this was…different. It felt like more of some unnamed thing. Love? Desire? Her mouth opened tentatively over his and she pressed herself against him. Archie pulled away from her and shook his head. "Emma, it's best if you go back to sleep. I can't...I won't do that to you again," he insisted, using every ounce of willpower. She felt his quick pants of breath against her face and saw the fear and want in his eyes. She ran her fingers along his damp bottom lip. Her body began to throb with an anticipation she hadn't felt since…for a very long time.

Archie's fists were clenched at his sides but Emma reached down and grabbed them, bringing his hands up to her face.

His blue eyes glittered, his heart there in their depths. He loved her. She loved him, Emma admitted, feeling her heart fill near to bursting as she lifted the veil off that frightening, confusing emotion. She loved him in this strange, full, desperate way. He was the only thing in her world now that was good and made her feel alive. She pressed a hand to his chest, feeling the rapid race of his heart. She loved him, she told herself, rolling the words over in her head. She wanted him. _Forgive me._

"It's different now. I want you to." she said kissing him again.


	20. Chapter Twenty: Letting Go Of The Past

Chapter Twenty

"Emma…" Archie warned pulling back, but keeping his hands on her face. His thumbs stroked her cheeks, slowly sliding down to her jaw.

"Do you…Don't you…?" Emma asked feeling the slow burn of embarrassment begin to creep as she wondered if perhaps she had been mistaken. Were Archie's feelings for her merely those of friendship? Her instincts told her no but she really didn't have very much experience in these matters. There'd been Horatio who'd been rather shy towards her in the beginning seeing as they had been thrown together. But later, she liked to think she'd been able to read when he was having lustful feelings towards her.

Archie had gone through so much and willingly took on Simpson to keep him away from her. Would he have done that just for his friend?

"I thought you wanted…I believed your feelings towards me were perhaps more than those of friendship," Emma tried to read his eyes. There seemed to be more there but then why was he stopping her?

Archie licked his lips and lowered his head. "You don't want to do this. You're simply confused and it's just our proximity to each other, locked in here together for so long. You can't possibly want me to…not after what I did."

"Do you really believe that?" Emma asked, shocking herself when she felt her eyes burning with tears. She took a deep breath, steeling herself to ask the question that would solve their current predicament. "You're telling me how I feel, which I rather resent, but pushing that aside for a moment, tell me how you feel. Are your feelings stronger than friendship? Do you…love me, Archie?" Emma held her breath. If he said no, she would be mortified and living here with him would surely be unbearable. But she had to know for certain.

"Jesus Christ, Emma," he swore closing his eyes.

"Tell me, Archie."

"You're married to my best friend, Emma."

The mention of her beloved Horatio made the tears slowly trail down her cheeks. Emma moved closer to Archie, shifting one leg over his so that she was straddling his left leg. She cupped his face with her hands. "I don't think he's coming for us, Archie. I'm afraid my dream might mean that he's…" She stopped, her throat closing on the horrific words. "But we're here together, Archie. You and I. We're alive. I can't live enslaved to a ghost. I'll go mad. Maybe we can grab a little bit of happiness here." Emma braved brushing her lips against his once more and felt his gasp against her mouth. "Stop me, if I'm wrong. Stop me if you don't feel this thing that is between us."

"Fucking hell…" Archie groaned, his mouth moving up across her cheek and into her hair. "I do."

Emma felt a sharp wonderful burst of emotion spread through her entire being and she beamed at him. "You do?" She ran her thumb down across his chin.

"Are you certain?" He asked, pressing his forehead against hers and locking his gaze with hers.

"Am I-? Oh," Emma said in sudden understanding, a flood of longing racing with embarrassing speed through her veins to settle between her legs. "Yes. I…I love you, Archie and I want you to make love to me." She was thankful for the blessed darkness that hid her flaming cheeks from him.

Archie groaned, inching his mouth closer to hers. "You love me? Truly?"

"Oh yes," Emma said, shaking now, not with fear but with excitement.

He smiled beatifically at her as he slid his fingers into her hair and pulled her mouth down against his.

Emma gasped at the wonderful racing rush of sensation that thrummed through her veins and burrowed closer to him when his lips moved across hers with slow thorough ease. She could feel him trembling and wondered briefly if it was nervousness or desire Archie was feeling.

He pulled back briefly. "If you want me to stop you need only say the word."

"I don't want you stop," Emma assured him, taking his mouth again. She wrapped her arms around him, moving her fingers down his back.

Archie winced and sucked in his breath, jerking against her because the lashes on his back were still tender.

"Oh, forgive me! I forgot," she whispered, pulling her hands back.

"It's all right," Archie assured her, reaching for her mouth again.

Emma sighed blissfully limiting herself to running her hands down the front of his body. She reached down and pulled his shirt up, wanting to touch his warm skin.

Archie's mouth moved down to her neck, sucking lightly at her pulse making her senses spin wonderfully with the soft tickle of his beard. "I'm touching you…God. I'm touching you and kissing you." His voice was filled with awe as he reached up to nip at her ear, making her giggle.

"Don't stop. Don't stop touching me," Emma sighed, digging her fingers into his stomach, daring to run the tips of her fingers past the waistband of his trousers. She smiled when she felt his stomach muscles tighten. His hands moved down to her nightgown and pulled the fabric up making her suck in her breath at the feel of his hands on her bare skin.

"Mmm, I don't plan to," he said and she felt him smile against her mouth before teasing her teeth open with his tongue.

Emma was shaking with anticipation as he pulled the fabric up her thighs, telling her without words to shift her hips so he could move it up higher. She waited for the nervousness, guilt or unease to come but oh this felt right. His hands on her felt as if they should be there and when he began pushing the nightgown up higher still, Emma pulled back to help him. He stopped when his hands came to the undersides of her breasts and Emma whimpered at the sensations he evoked by running his thumbs slowly along the soft flesh.

When she turned her head to the bars on the door she felt a prickle of nervousness. "Uh, Archie?" The last thing she wanted was for the guards to know what was happening in this room. Pretending to be married was one thing, but to have them actually listen in on this private, intimate moment.

"Hmm?" He asked, reaching up to cup her breasts, stealing her breath.

"I think we...Oh good God," she whimpered when his thumbs slid up along her nipples. "We shouldn't do this here."

Archie froze. "You want to stop?" His voice was strained and panting.

When her leg brushed against the bulge in his pants Emma smiled sympathetically. Her desire may not manifest itself in the same way but she was no less affected by his touch than he was by hers.

"Oh, no," Emma assured him, kissing him. "I just, well, the bed. I feel a bit nervous knowing they can just peek in at any moment and know what we're doing."

Archie gave a small laugh, dropping his head against her neck.

"Can we move?"

"Well love, in case you haven't noticed, there are not very many options for a rendezvous considering that we are in prison," Archie pointed out.

Emma burst out laughing and wrapped her arms around him and hugged him close to her, careful only to touch his neck. Oh how she'd missed this Archie!

She cupped his face and kissed him passionately. "Maybe we can move to the other bunk? Or the floor?"

Archie stiffened, his smile fading. "I will not take you on the floor like some…some…like before."

Emma mentally kicked herself for reminding him of that terrible night. She did not want that ugly night to intrude on this sweet moment. "The other bunk then?" She leaned down and softly kissed his collarbone, hoping to distract him.

"Good idea," Archie sighed, breathing deeply. He gripped her hips and quickly lifted her off the bed.

Emma bit back a squeal of surprise and held on tight, wrapping her legs around his waist as he carried her to the other bunk and gently set her down. She looked over at the bars certain they were out of sight now, though she did regret that now the moonlight wasn't illuminating them. She could only faintly make out Archie's features, though his eyes still glittered like beautiful black glass.

Now the two of them were hidden in the darkest corner of the room. All they had to worry about now was keeping quiet which would be easy if Archie wasn't doing such delicious things to her body. He lifted her nightgown up over her head and eased her back onto the mattress until she was lying there nearly completely exposed to him.

His mouth was on hers again before she could feel self-conscious and Emma lifted her hips against Archie's hand as he pulled her underwear down off her hips.

"Beautiful. You are the most beautiful creature I have ever seen," He ran his fingers down her hips along the line where her hipbone met her thigh and Emma couldn't find her voice to tell him that he couldn't really be seeing much of anything. His hands moved as if they were his eyes. Then his fingers were there. Between her legs and she arched and bit her lip to keep from crying out.

He lowered his head to rain kisses down on her chest. Archie stroked her slowly, bringing her to the brink before delving inside of her with one finger.

"Sweet God," Emma whimpered rolling her hips. She pulled at his shirt wanting to feel him, touch him, make him as insane as she was.

He obliged, pulling his shirt off and then returning to stroke her again.

"Ohhhh…" she moaned, burying her face in the side of her face in the pillow. "Come here, I want touch you." She stretched her arms out to him and he leaned close to Emma and kissed her. She rose slightly against him, wanting the feel of his chest pressed to her. "Hmmm, all of you, Mr. Kennedy," She whispered, playfully tugging on his trousers.

He nibbled at her lower lip briefly before pulling back to remove the rest of his clothes.

Emma wished she could see him. But she settled for 'seeing' him as he was 'seeing' her, being careful to avoid his back. Her hands slid down along his chest, enjoying the pleasant tickle against her palm. She daringly moved further down, feeling the warm swollen flesh against her thigh. She was throbbing, aching, just like he was and for a brief few seconds, his fingers moved back to her center and Emma thought she was going to scream and embarrass the both of them. The thought made her laugh and Archie stopped looked down at her questioningly.

Before he could ask what was so funny, Emma boldly took him in her hand. She squeezed his shaft gently. Archie hissed and dropped his head against hers, meeting her eyes while they pleasured each other with their hands until they were both panting and straining for more.

Then he was there, positioning himself between her legs and Emma was holding her breath. Her eyes drifted closed as delicious pressure filled her and built between her legs, up her belly and into her chest. "Oh yes…yes…Oh!" Emma buried her face in his neck as the orgasm slammed into her without warning, shocking her with its speed and intensity.

Archie groaned, feeling her pulse and clench around him as she trembled beneath him. He held himself still, knowing if he dared to move this would be over much too soon.

Emma stared up at him, awe-struck. Never had she reached her peak so quickly. She cupped his face in her hands and kissed him, rolling her hips and whimpering at the exquisite sensations of her still sensitive folds rubbing against the hot steel of him. "Oh God, Archie…Oh my God. I love you," she sighed kissing his neck.

Archie balanced himself on his arms and rained kisses on her face as he slowly began to move inside of her, drowning in the delicious tight heat of her. Her legs came up and wrapped around his waist, drawing him in deeper. She felt like heaven, sighing his name, shaking beneath him, wanting him, loving him. Archie resisted the urge to relentlessly thrust into her, satisfying years of desire for her but he wanted this to last.

"Good God…" he growled pushing deep into her, feeling his tenuous grip on his release slip.

She dug her fingers into Archie's shoulders, moving with him in a slow deep rhythm. Her damp skin felt hot against him and Archie felt himself begin to swell and throb inside of her. Knowing his climax was imminent; Archie used one hand and eased it between their damp bodies to stroke her.

"Oh no…too much. I can't again…" Emma whimpered, bolts of electricity shooting through her blood as his fingers pressed between her legs and his thrusts quickened.

Archie smiled against her mouth, tasting her with his tongue as he pushed into her over and over again. Oh yes she would, he told himself. He alternated his thrusts, fast and slow, deep and then pulling back slightly so he almost left her before driving in hard again. "Oh fuck…" he groaned into her mouth when he had her sighing his name, begging him to never stop. He began to stroke her faster, wanting her right there with him as he felt the hot pulsing begin deep inside of him and rolling fast through his shaft.

Then she bowed again beneath him, biting into his shoulder to stop the scream that tore from her throat as he stabbed into her with deep hard thrusts, sending her over the edge once more, before burying his face in the side of her neck and releasing himself inside of her with shaking, driving movements as he panted her name.

He fell on top of her, breathless and damp. Emma held him close with her arms and her legs, running her fingers up through his wet hair. She could feel his heartbeat racing in time with hers as she stared up at the bottom of the bunk above them, in awe of what they had just generated between them. She waited for the guilt to come, the feeling that this was wrong, and that she should ask God for forgiveness for this betrayal.

It never came.


	21. Chapter TwentyOne: Swept Away

**Chapter Twenty-One**

Emma stared up at the bunk above them. Archie was awake, but silent as well. Both of them were lost in their own musings over what exactly crossing this irrevocable line meant. _I love you, _she had cried in the heat of passion. Emma's cheeks flamed as she recalled just how swept away she had been. The man had taken her to a place she had never fathomed existed. Emma knew passion but this…this disturbingly strong magnetic pull between them was something else entirely.

Where on earth had it come from? She'd first clapped eyes on Archie and felt an immediate kinship with him but attraction? He seemed more like the cherubic faced older brother Emma never had. Horatio's dark handsomeness had drawn her in so powerfully that she was blind to anyone else. But now here she was lying next to Archie, her body heavy and warm pressed against him and she wanted him yet again. She wanted to turn to him, have him cover her in the hot strength of his body and slide into her, sweeping her away once more.

Maybe it's the fact that he looked different. He no longer looked like the sweet- faced young man she knew. The beard made him look older, more world weary, almost a different man entirely. Emma could almost fool herself that she hadn't betrayed her husband with his very best friend, if it wasn't for Archie's eyes. Those devastatingly blue shining eyes could belong to no one else than her dear Mr. Kennedy. There was also that smile. Though there hadn't been much occasion to see it as of late, even covered by reddish gold bristles, Emma would know Archie's smile anywhere. By turns impish and beguiling, it lit up his whole face and squeezed her heart with its beauty.

He was her dear Mr. Kennedy and her body was wet and slick with renewed desire for him.

Did that make her a horrible woman? Did it make her a terrible wife? Would Horatio have wanted her to turn to his best friend more than any other, or would he see it as an even greater betrayal than if she had bedded a stranger?

And why did it not make her regret the words she had cried out? She loved him. Archie Kennedy. It was bizarre and disconcerting, exhilarating and fact. Emma tried to tell herself that Archie had been right. It was simply the months in close proximity that had brought these feelings out in her. It didn't matter why, Emma realized with a small smile. She loved him and he loved her. It was a shining light in their dark world and she couldn't bring herself to regret or reprimand herself for it.

"One half of me is yours, the other half yours-Mine own, I would say; but if mine, then yours, And so all yours," Archie whispered, making her jump slightly. She felt his mouth against the crown of her head.

"Archie, considering I'm lying in your arms without a stitch on, I would say the need for flowery prose is a bit late," Emma joked, reaching behind her to pat his thigh.

He chuckled, the sound making a pleasant hum in his chest against her back. "My bounty is as boundless as the sea, my love as deep; the more I give to thee, the more I have, for both are infinite."

"Oh good lord, you're going to be utterly incorrigible now, aren't you?" Emma asked turning around to face him.

"Utterly," he said pressing his lips to her forehead and running his hand up along her spine. He hesitantly brought his fingers up along the bottom curve of her breast. His eyes met hers in silent question. His cheeks were stained with color and Emma's heart tightened. Now he was shy?

"I love thee, I love but thee with a love that shall not die. 'Till the…stars, er-no. What is…Oh dear. I made a mess of it didn't I?" Emma stammered laughing ruefully.

"Till the sun grows cold And the stars grow old," Archie added with a smile.

"I suppose I'll have to leave the pretty words to you and try the more direct approach," Emma took his hand and closed it over her bare breast.

His eyes flared with a look of such hunger Emma felt her center begin to throb.

"There's much to be said for clarity," he whispered rubbing his thumb across her nipple before meeting her mouth with his own.

And just like that, Emma was spinning again.

His mouth was warm and insistent against her lips as his tongue teased against her teeth. She sighed into his mouth allowing him to turn her on her back once more. He moved down, nipping at her skin until he reached her breasts. She sucked in her breath at the exquisite sharpness of his teeth grazing her nipple.

"Oh sweet God…" she moaned when he took the tight puckered flesh into his mouth and flicked his tongue over it. She slid her fingers through his hair, pressing him closer.

"Beautiful," he murmured, sliding his hands down to her hips. Her thighs fell open with an eagerness that should have shamed her but didn't.

And then his mouth was there, hovering between her legs and Emma's eyes widened with realization. This time her cheeks did warm with embarrassment and she almost clamped her thighs shut. Surely a lady did not engage in such acts!

But oh God, how she was throbbing, trembling and breathless with need. And curious, Emma admitted. She wasn't quite sure _how_ someone loved you with their mouth but she wasn't so sheltered that she hadn't heard of such acts in hushed whispers, usually in terms of brothels and ladies of loose morality.

"This is good. I promise," Archie whispered coaxingly, the warmth from his mouth sending a wave of sharp sensation along her swollen moist folds. She clenched her lower body and bit her lip.

"Archie…" she whimpered afraid to let him do such a thing to her, aching on the knife-edge of desire for that very thing.

"Trust me, love. If you want me to stop I will but let me do this for you," he smiled up at her and then kissed the inside of her right thigh.

Her body stiffened, all except that most secret part of her that swelled and grew slick and demanded relief.

"I don't know…" she whispered, her voice small and unsure.

He pressed his lips to her center in a tiny kiss.

Emma jerked in surprise, her hips lifting of their own volition.

"More?" Archie asked, stroking her thighs as if to calm her.

She was panting, propped up on her elbows and staring down at him. Emma nodded slowly.

He kissed her there again, this time holding his lips against her damp skin for a few seconds.

Emma whimpered and gulped for a breath of air that seemed stolen away from her.

"Good?" He asked, a determined glint in his eyes.

Dear God, it was one thing to engage in intercourse with him under the cover of darkness of but to engage in _this_ and be able to see him doing it to her, and knowing that he was seeing her completely!

She nodded, desire, curiosity and shame whirling through her at lightening speed.

This time, when he closed her mouth over her trembling center, Archie flicked his tongue along the folds, not reaching the swollen nub at her center, but moving gently around it.

"Oh good God!" Emma cried out, clamping her hand over her mouth to try and stifle her cries of pleasure. Her body bucked beneath his mouth, shocked at the intensity of sensation slamming through her. He wasn't even _there_ yet! She grabbed the pillow and didn't stop him when he spread her thighs wider. She let him. She wanted him. She wanted him to do this insane thing to her.

She distantly wondered what she tasted like and hoped that he wasn't put off by her but the diligence with which his tongue stroked her told Emma he was getting pleasure from the act. "Archie…oh God…I…Ohhhh," Her arms could no longer hold her up, her limbs losing control and she fell back against the mattress. Her fingers tightened in his hair as she stared up and gave herself over to this exquisite pleasure he was giving her.

Then when she thought she could take no more, that the feelings throbbing through her were too strong, he closed his lips over the swollen nub of flesh at her center and sucked it into his mouth.

Emma arched upwards and bit into the pillow, a litany of screams and pleas threatening to burst past her mouth.

Archie held her thighs open and flat on the bed, stifling her movements as he expertly sucked and licked. The restricted movement only heightened her desperate need. She was at the height of her lust, naked except for the small corner of the blanket covering her ribs. Even that seemed too stifling to her and Emma pushed it aside, completely naked now and exposed except for Archie's head between her legs.

"Oh please…please…Oh my God!" When Archie took the nub between his teeth and bit gently, Emma bore down and buried her head in the mattress, throwing her arms up over her head, giving herself up to the racing orgasm that burst from her center outward to the very tips of her hair.

She sagged, utterly stupefied at what she'd just experienced as Archie climbed back up her body meeting her eyes with a desperate hunger of his own.

Again, Emma opened her thighs for him and when he thrust into her in one smooth movement, she felt as if it was truly possible to die from pleasure.


	22. Chapter TwentyTwo: In The Hands Of Fate

**Chapter Twenty-Two**

He was surely going to burn in hell for this, if not for all the other things he had done in his life. Archie watched Emma as she slept, her face flushed with a few red strands of hair stuck to her forehead thanks to the sheen of passion that still clung to her skin. Surely this, taking this innocent creature from his best friend into his bed was the one thing that he could never gain forgiveness for. He did not have the excuse of madness this time. Although loving this woman was its own kind of madness.

Archie knew if they had never been kept here together, without Horatio, Emma would never have looked at him as more than her friend. It was hard to be grateful for being held prisoner, but Archie was. He felt like an evil, selfish bastard. What kind of man was glad that the woman he loved lived like a bird in a cage? A trapped animal.

He could see the red splotches on her where his beard had scraped against her skin. When he had first been captured, they'd refused to give him a razor. Afterwards, he'd been afraid to use one, the temptation was too great in his depression to drag it across his throat to end his torment. Now he was glad for it. Emma told him she liked it. She said she loved how it felt against her skin. He hadn't been able to get close enough, bury himself deep enough in her. Archie wanted every part of her to be his, to be marked and branded by him.

But she wasn't. As freely as Emma gave herself to him, as passionately as she responded to him, Horatio had been there, in a flicker in her eyes every now and then. Horatio hung over them like a curtain of condemnation.

He might be dead. He might be alive. He might be coming for them. He might not.

And what would Archie say when he looked into his best mate's eyes? How could he look into the eyes of the man he loved more than his own family, and know that he had betrayed Horatio in the worst way?

_I love you_,she had said again and again as he took her. She seemed shocked by the passion they generated. It made him feel disgustingly proud and smug to know that he loved her and made her feel things that Horatio, judging by her reaction, never had.

How could he look the man in the eyes without thinking, _I loved her better. I deserve her more. She's mine._

Of course, this entire train of thought was moot. If they ever saw Horatio again, Emma would assuredly run straight back into his arms. Archie may love this woman to the point of insanity, but he was no fool. She was married to Horatio, not to him, and if Horatio was alive and found them, she would honor her vows to the man.

And Archie would go back to being her friend and nothing more. The knowledge filled him with burning resentment, followed quickly by guilt. Everything came so easily to Horatio and God saw fit to bless him further by giving him this woman. Hadn't Archie suffered enough to be able to claim this small amount of happiness, however fleeting? Of course, if the tables had been turned, Horatio would nobly step aside if Emma had married Archie. Because it was the right thing and Horatio always did the right thing.

How could any man compare to the great hero Horatio Hornblower?

Archie felt Emma's slim arm slide up along his side. He winced as her fingers touched a still-sensitive welt on his back. He shifted slightly so that her fingers moved to his waist. She sighed and tilted her head down so her face nuzzled his chest.

He should be exhausted. He'd already woken her up once to sate his lust for her. His body felt heavy, though his mind was racing. Sleep was eluding him and as she unconsciously rubbed her foot up along his calf, Archie felt his cock stirring to life once more.

God help him, this woman was going to be the death of him. He ran his hand along her thigh, her leg resting over his. He shouldn't, he told himself. He should let her sleep. No doubt Massaredo would come in a few hours demanding she see to one prisoner or another. But Archie couldn't resist. He slid a hand between them to brush the curls between her legs, still damp from their last bout of lovemaking. He swelled harder when she sighed and tilted her hips closer to his fingers. Her mouth sleepily found his collarbone and she whimpered when his fingers delved inside of her.

" 'gain?" she murmured and Archie inhaled the scent of her hair.

He couldn't wait until his back healed and she could ride him, her hair falling over them like a curtain of fire. The image made him groan out loud and Archie knew he had to give in to the desire threatening to explode inside of him yet again.

"I can't seem to get enough of you, love," Archie whispered, stroking her slowly feeing her slick and swollen around his finger.

"Mmm. Nor I. Love you" Emma sighed burrowing closer to him.

The words made sweet emotion fill his chest and he kissed his way down the side of her face until he met her mouth.

She was his for now, and Archie would grab on to her and this precious time with both hands. Let fate deal whatever hand it wished later. He'd take his happiness for as long as it lasted. Archie banished his fears and his guilt to the dark corner of his mind and rolled Emma onto her back.

Her eyes fluttered open and she grinned up at him. "Mr. Kennedy, you are in-ah," Emma arched in delight when he slid into her, cupping her bottom to fill her more deeply. " 'satiable."

"Say my name. I want to hear my name spill from your mouth when I'm inside of you," he growled, rolling his hips in slow long movements.

"Archie…Oh, yes…Archie," she purred into his ear, pressing her nails into the nape of his neck as found his rhythm.

Archie slid his mouth down to her throat, making her skin even more pink by rubbing his face into her neck and lightly scratching his way along her collarbone.

Her legs tightened around his waist and she shivered against him. "Love that…Oh God, yes, so much!" He felt her clench and unclench her hands against his back, wanting to grab him, yet clearly afraid of hurting him. Then she reached down and grabbed his behind.

Archie groaned and thrust harder inside of her, aroused by her boldness. "God, Emma."

"Oh," Emma started to pull her hands away, apparently embarrassed.

"No, don't stop," Archie assured her. "Touch me. Put your hands on me."

Gingerly, her hands returned to his bottom and Archie gasped at the sweet sensation, nearly losing himself inside her. He suckled her breast to try to distract himself and hold off his release.

She whimpered, her center tightening around him. He could feel her release moments away. Her breath was coming fast and short against his face. Archie met her mouth again, sliding his tongue along hers before pulling back and lowering his forehead against hers. Her eyes locked on him, looking up at him with such trust and, yes, he allowed himself triumphantly, love. She was willing to follow wherever he led her. Emma was brave enough to grab this tiny world of happiness because she trusted him. After everything. Archie felt his eyes blur with tears and his heart swell almost painfully in his chest. She stole his breath, simply and truly. She cupped his face in her hands and kissed him slowly. He could taste her gasps when the pleasure became too sharp for her. He gripped her hips, knowing that his own release was a few thrusts away and determined to bring her with him. He held himself still for a moment and tried to catch his breath. Her breasts were slick with sweat against his body. Her red hair was damp and darkened almost to brown and her exquisite blue eyes were looking up at him with need and desperation.

"Please…"she moaned trembling. Her mouth was swollen and he couldn't resist lowering himself to taste her lips again.

He drove in hard once and then used every ounce of willpower to still himself again.

"Oh!" she cried, squeezing her eyes and lifting her hips greedily for more.

"Come with me, darling Emma. Come with me," Archie urged, pulling back and snapping his hips forward to shove in to her sweet body again.

"Yes!" she hissed, biting into his shoulder.

He stopped his movements a second time. Hovering over her, trembling with his own need to drive into her relentlessly, Archie waited.

He watched her breathing change. She started sucking in air in quick uneven bursts, her hips bore down and her shaking became more pronounced.

"Now, Archie. Please. Now!" she whispered fervently, grabbing his behind again to drive him deep into her until they were hip to hip.

Archie granted her wish. He rocked his hips fast and hard, pounding deep into her as she buckled and writhed beneath him. Her hands drove into the cheeks of his behind as he thrust again and again. Her face was buried in his damp neck, her teeth digging into his collarbone but Archie was numb to any pain. He was blind to anything but the feel of her core clutching hot and tight and convulsing as he gave her the same mind numbing release he himself was feeling, pulling up high in his cock before shooting out in ragged aching bursts inside of her. He pushed into her hard with each spurt of his release.

Archie collapsed against her, his uneven breath mingling with her shaking gasps for air.

"Oh dear God," Emma sighed when she could finally speak. Archie could feel her heart racing in her chest, pressed against him. There was awe in her voice. "It's always going to be like this for us, isn't it?"

"Always," Archie said, his voice hoarse. _However long that may last, _he added silently.


	23. Chapter TwentyThree: The Bubble Bursts

**Chapter Twenty-Three**

_This can't possibly be normal_, Emma thought as she looked up from the stone table at Archie who was busy with a few of the other prisoners, splitting logs for firewood. The air was cool and there was no afternoon sun but sweat was glistening off all three men as they hacked at the lumber. Emma's gaze was riveted to Archie's body. She told herself that it was purely for medical reasons. His lashes were not completely healed yet. She was crushing herbs for a paste that she hoped would mend the welts more quickly and ease the itching of the healing tissue. She worried the sweat was stinging his still tender flesh. She certainly wasn't studying his back to enjoy the play and ripple of tight, corded muscle that had begun to redefine itself under Archie's skin. Her own body taunted her with the brazenness of that lie. Emma shifted from one foot to the other to try and ease the damned nearly-ever-present throbbing tickle between her legs before it blossomed into full-blown arousal. Sweet heavens, what had the man done to her? _Well, just about everything,_ Emma thought with a snort, lowering her eyes back down to her mortar and pestle. She had especially liked that thing he had done with his mouth but she'd been much too embarrassed to ask him to do it again. She didn't have to. He seemed to enjoy loving her with his mouth as much as she enjoyed being loved that way. Well, all right, she doubted he loved it quite that much. Emma hid her smile and hoped that the overcast sky hid her flaming cheeks. She almost didn't recognize herself with Archie. She had enjoyed lovemaking since her first time but this constant…_wanting_ couldn't be normal. Archie had stirred her world into this controlled chaos that made the nerves under Emma's skin hum in an agonizingly sweet buzz.

It came upon her in the most innocent of moments. She would be pouring over her notes or administering medicine to a prisoner and then a memory would slam into her, Archie poised above her, strong and warm and filling her so deeply while murmuring the sweetest words of love in her ear or cupping one of her breasts lovingly as he read to her and Emma's breath would catch.

When Emma lifted her eyes again, she caught Archie's gaze and the man winked at her as if he was fully privy to her thoughts. She narrowed her eyes and stuck her tongue out at him, which made him laugh softly before he turned back to his work.

Later in the day Emma was standing in Massaredo's dining room, bent over a glass jar filled with her homemade ointment when Archie came in carrying a bundle of chopped wood in his arms.

"God in heaven. What is that foul smell?" He asked after piling the wood in the fireplace.

"This is a present for you later." Emma held up the jar and winked at him, mimicking his earlier gesture.

He walked towards her and sniffed the jar. He grimaced and took a step back saying, "I liked the book of Shakespeare better."

His skin was flushed and still slightly damp and Emma gave into the urge to lay her fingers on his bare shoulder. Archie's eyes flashed with promise, silently telling her she was seconds away from being flung on the table with her skirts up around her waist.

"You're to take it easy for the rest of the day," Emma said, her voice slightly breathless as she forced herself to remove her hand. "I'll make sure to tell Massaredo you're work for the day is done. I don't want you over-exerting yourself." She tapped his nose with her pencil and turned back to her notebook, setting the jar back on the table.

Archie leaned in behind her and wrapped an arm around her waist, drawing her up against his bare chest to nuzzle the nape of her neck. "It's rather handy having a wife who's a doctor." As soon as the words left his mouth, both of them froze. _Oh God._

"I'm…I don't know why…Emma…" Archie pulled back stammering.

Emma gripped his arm, holding him against her as she turned to face him. His eyes were wide with panic and apology. She pressed her fingers to his mouth to stifle any further protests. She tried to still her own trembling by pressing her mouth to his and found, with no small measure of relief that it did help. Her nerves calmed as she held on to him and when she could trust her voice, she pulled back.

"Let's not look to the past, all right, Archie? Right now is all that is important." She looked down and tried to collect herself before continuing. "I claimed to be your wife so that we wouldn't be separated. We've just become used to the pretense. You have no reason to feel guilty." She was speaking both to him and to herself.

He took her hands in his and cleared his throat. "Perhaps…someday it can become-"

She was certain that she hadn't screamed out 'No!" but he must have seen the word there in her eyes because his face fell and he released her hands. Her heart tightened in her chest and she blinked back tears, hating herself for her stupid weakness. They had become so caught up in finding happiness in this small dismal world that it was easy to pretend that there had never been a world beyond these prison walls; that Emma had never been married to Horatio. Until Archie had called her his wife. Reality intruded with the force of a stinging slap across their faces and they were reminded that she belonged to someone else. _He's dead, you foolish twit!_ Emma scolded herself mentally but her heart wasn't ready to completely let go of the tiny glimmer of possibility that Horatio was out there. _That doesn't stop you from lying beneath his best friend, does it?_ Emma shook her head and choked on a sob.

Archie sighed and pulled away. "I have to finish the other rooms," he said woodenly, turning and walking out, leaving her alone.

She spoke with Don Massaredo later that evening, asking him to send word out for any news on the Indefatigable.

"You asked me this when you first came. I told you there was nothing. Why do you ask again?" Massaredo asked warming his chilled hands by the fire.

"I need to put my mind to rest on a matter regarding that frigate and its crew. I need to find a man. Horatio Hornblower."

"Is your husband aware of your curiosity regarding other men?" Massaredo asked with a sardonic grin.

"Yes," Emma lied. "Mr Hornblower is…family. I ask you to do this for me as a kindness."

"I am not known for my kindness," Massaredo reminded her. "Mr. Kennedy can attest to that."

Emma clenched her jaw, not wanting to be reminded of just how brutal a man Massaredo was. It also reminded her that she would still have to face Archie to treat his back. After the early awkwardness of the day, she was not relishing seeing him again. "I can only ask that you do this for me. Just try and find out anything you can. I remind you that I have done all you have asked of me and have served as physician here, carrying out those duties competently and without complaint."

Massaredo gave a suffering sigh. "I will make these inquiries."

When Emma got back to her room, she was alone. Archie was still working with the other men, supplying the guards' rooms with firewood. She bit her nail and stared at the bunk against the wall. Was it over now, she wondered? Had she broken Archie's heart unwillingly? _Please, no, _she pleaded silently. She couldn't go back to having him withdraw from her. She needed him too much, loved him too deeply. But the evil voice of her guilt would not be quieted, though it hadn't been as audible of late. Emma knew she had to stop this. Horatio was gone. Her head knew it, even if her heart was stubbornly ignoring the knowledge. She had to listen to her head if she was going to move forward with Archie and she had to move forward. She wanted to, desperately. Emma squeezed her eyes shut, stopping the tears before they came.

"All right you. Stop this right now," Emma ordered herself. She needed to prove to Archie that she had no doubts about her love for him. She'd show him that he was her future and the only man in her heart now.

She scanned the room and a glimmer of an idea came to her and her lips curved with a small, hopeful smile.

First, she needed a bathtub.


End file.
